Probation
by hufflepuffs anonymous
Summary: Hermione is hired as a Healer at St. Mungo's, but she must pass a three month probationary period before she can be an official Healer. A lot can happen in three months, especially when a certain ex-Death Eater also works at the hospital and a meddlesome Hufflepuff and even more meddlesome Slytherin get involved.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This fic takes place after _Deathly Hallows_ but before the so-called 'epilogue' (EWE). I have made up a lot about how I think Healer training might happen in the wizarding world, but have tried to stay as close to the book as possible based on information that we already know. Please feel free to let me know if I've completely missed the boat on something. This story will become M-rated in later chapters, so only mature readers please.**

**I have a little over half of this story written out, so I will be posting fairly quickly. This is my first multi-chapter fic, so please, constructive criticism only. I love reviews, but I will only respond to them through private messages (I like to avoid long author notes at the beginning/end of chapters, so hopefully this will be the only one!), so if you do not have an account I will not reply (but I will appreciate the review either way!). I am also still looking for a Beta if anyone is interested.**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter One: _Die somnis_

On a cloudy Tuesday morning like any other in September on a small overpopulated island a young woman sporting a tight brown bun, long, unflattering white robes, black sneakers, and a determined expression approached a condemned red brick department store building with an off-kilter mannequin in the window. The woman smiled at the mannequin and wished it a good morning. An old man walking by stared at her in confusion and shook his head muttering about youth these days and something about "reefer". The young witch, for indeed she was a witch, smiled softly at the old man and walked through the window of the department store into the lobby of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. This witch breathed in the pungent scent of medicinal potions and acrid burns that filled the pandemonium of the immaculate white lobby with a smile of determination of her face; this witch was none other than Hermione Granger.

Yes, Hermione Granger the famous 'smart' one from the 'Golden Trio': without her Harry and Ron would not have vanquished Voldemort let alone passed first year, the one who had a misguided hard-on for one Ronald Weasley, the one who habitually forgets that she is indeed a witch, the one who had an illicit fling with the very famous and much less handsome Victor Krum, the one who always knows the answer, the "brightest witch of her age" with a ghastly tangle of curls. And this little knows-too-much-for-her-own-good was nervous.

Today she started as a fully licenced Healer specialising in memory charms and battle wounds. Yes, it was an odd specialisation, Healers Adams and Boyd, under whom she studied for three years, both found the combination very "interesting" and would have long heated discussions behind closed doors about Hermione's chosen combination of study. Healers Adams and Boyd both believed that no one knew about their tendency to fuck one another senseless in their offices—of course everyone and their owl knew, but it was so much more fun to watch them sneaking around thinking that they were the most secretive people on earth.

I digress; Healer Hermione crossed the lobby avoiding a tired looking man who kept hiccupping fire and a toddler with tentacles instead of legs suction-cupped to the floor. She navigated her way around the welcome witch whose blindingly bright smile promised to be far too helpful for Hermione to stomach. She nodded her head at the receptionists Rupert and Lynda—one young and wide and the other old and slender—who both waved back distractedly as they filled out forms and reassured patients. Once in the staff lift, which required wand authentication to enter, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as quiet jazz filled her ears. She re-arranged her white robes so that, if possible, they hung even more unattractively on her thin frame and touched her forearm to ensure that her wand holster was still holding her wand.

Then she began to pace. One thing that Hermione would never understand was the wizard lift system: _how was it that it took so long to operate? And for that matter, why model the wizard lift system after a Muggle invention?_ Her pacing sped up. _Could wizards not think of a more time and effective way to traverse from one level to the next? Not to mention blood prejudice, why copy Muggles at all?_ She was practically running from one side of the lift to the other (although that really isn't saying much considering it was only 6 feet wide). _And for that matter how have wizards not yet invented_—Her train of thought was interrupted by the lift stopping at level three and Healer Adams walking in.

"Hermione! Congratulations again, I am so thrilled that you're going to be joining our floor. For a while I thought you were going to go abroad, and, well, that would have been just devastating!" exclaimed Amy (Yes, her name is Amy Adams like the actress). "You can finally eat lunch with us in the staff room. I just find it ridiculous that they don't allow HITs to eat with us. What's going to happen? You're going to poison us?!" Her booming laugh filled the nervous silence of the lift. "Well maybe on the third floor!" She laughed again nudging Hermione in the arm. "Get it? Cause it's the third floor, where…"

Healer Adams was a curious creature. She, for all intents and purposes, resembled an "average" woman; white, brownish-blondish hair shoulder-length straight hair, light brown eyes, 5'6", soft shoulders, boobs, ass, some teeth –you get the picture. Except that she almost never stopped talking. Once while replacing the intestines of a victim of a rather nasty rogue Death Eater attack she had a full conversation about what she was going to cook for dinner that night (Spaghetti was too common, but maybe with that nice rosé from the store down the block owned by that lovely Jamaican couple who moved here back in '95 and had two kids who went to the nearest public school which was surprisingly "quite good" despite the area and the general lack of caring that most teachers have, public schools are really underrated these days!). She also had the fortune of being named Amy Adams, so everyone loved her on sight. Once when she dyed her hair people actually thought that she was _the _Amy Adams. But alas, she was only a measly Healer of all things curse related specialising in battle injuries.

The lift doors finally dinged open and a pleasant voice said, "Fourth floor: Spell Damage" saving Hermione from having to fake laugh along with Amy. Hermione was so nervous she felt like she was going to be sick. Instead she reminded herself that she was one third of the reason that Voldemort was dead and squared her shoulders. She left the lift and walked past the small reception desk—"Morning Clara!"—and down the shiny white hallway lined with deep purple doors to patients and visitors rooms and into the "Healers Only" hallway toward her new tiny office. Amy prattled on about a recent movie that she had seen (Amy was a half-blood), _Titanic_, while they walked. Sounded like rubbish to Hermione.

"Well, er, thanks for walking me to my new office Amy," Hermione said cutting her off as she began to open the door. "I guess I'm going to start looking through my inbox to see what assignments need to be done." As her purple office door clicked open Hermione jumped back in fright as literally twenty people crammed into her tiny office screamed "Congratulations!" at her.

Hermione's battle instincts had come back in full force and she was pointing her wand at the large group of people in front of her who were congratulating themselves on their coordination skills in pulling this off while her heart raced a mile a minute. Healer Boyd lowered Hermione's wand for her laughing as she squeezed out of the Hermione's office. "Glad to see that no one will be able to use the element of surprise on you, Hermione. Don't worry; none of us are going to attack you."

Healer Jennifer "Jenn" Boyd differed from the classic 'average' narrative in that she was of Japanese descent, tall and broad, had long black hair, green eyes and all the other body parts that most people have. She never spoke much, but when she did it was always worth listening to. Jennifer specialised in the removal and application of memory charms and of her two mentors was Hermione's favourite. Amy's prattling could get annoying.

Jenn smiled and glanced at Amy then pointedly looked down the hallway. The two women disappeared into Amy's office as the crowd began to leave the office shaking Hermione's hand and welcoming her to the team as they went. "Thank you," Hermione repeated again and again, her heart still racing and her brain still scanning the area for an attack. Hermione shook the hand of her boss last, Healer Ackley Bonham, a large stout Indian man with more grey hairs than not and a large pair of glasses on his even larger nose.

"Hermione, my dear, I am very happy that you're joining us. Please make sure to send me a memo if you have any questions, dear. As discussed you will continue to be secondary assistant to Healers Adams and Boyd during your probationary period of three months," (three months was the standard probationary period at St. Mungo's, however seeing as Hermione obtained her Healer certification there she found it a bit redundant to have to do a probationary period since they knew her capabilities—that's bureaucracy for you) "but I know that you will be unfogging minds and restarting hearts on your own in no time. Yes indeed!" Healer Bonham hobbled away to the end of the long white hallway and into his massive office.

What he really did on the floor, no one really knew—although one of the favourite past times of the employees when there were no patients was guessing what Old Bonham got up to all day, the running favourite was that he was actually a retired interpretive dancer who relived the days of his youth by looking through the photo album contained in the top left drawer of his mahogany desk, the tutu was also a dead giveaway. However he did always have a large box of sugar quills on his desk, so that was something.

Hermione tried to calm her racing heart as she gingerly closed her door behind her, fearing that someone was still hiding beneath her desk. After ensuring that her 8x5 was in fact empty with the help of a few charms, she began to cast a few more standard protective spells around her office, you know just to make sure no one could enter without her knowing, or her permission, that no non-humans could enter, that no noise would filter in through from the hallway, that no noise would filter into the hallway from her office—unless she wanted it to—that if one of her good friends came to visit and she wasn't there she would automatically be alerted via her wand of their presence as well as a note pad and drop box for any memos, a temperature regulator—you know, just the standard protection spells.

Hermione sat down at her mostly empty desk (she had some things magically sent over, including a photo of herself, Ron, and Harry) and took a deep breath. "You can do this," she said aloud. Hermione stood and headed toward the mailroom to see if anything had come in for her today. An armload of rolled parchment in one hand, she headed toward the operations and appointments wall adjacent to the mail room and read it over to see what today held in store for her. Performing a complex looking wand motion, Hermione made a holographic copy of her appointments with the aid of her wand. She then set her wand alarm to go off ten minutes before each appointment and waved her wand making the schedule disappear. Hermione nodded after having completed her daily ritual and headed back to her office, her practical running shoes squeaking slightly with each step.

* * *

"I know that you're technically still under observation only status during week one," whispered Jennifer as she tied her long hair back into a ponytail, "but I know that you can handle this: it's a simple memory wipe that we do every week to the Muggle working across the street from us, Paul, he owns the coffee shop. Poor soul always sees people walking through the window at the entrance to the hospital from Muggle London. He uses the entrance for Muggles at the back of the building and never sees any magic on his visits, so make sure that he does not see your wand." Hermione nodded. "Now remember, we want these to seem like daydreams and not completely remove them because that is far more dangerous."

"Yes, I know all this, Jenn," snapped Hermione as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"Take a breath, Hermione. I'm here to help."

"Sorry, I'm just—"

"Nervous?" She nodded. "You have no reason to be. You are by far the best memory specialist I have met, aside from myself of course." Jennifer smiled and placed a reassuring arm on her shoulder before opening the door to the patient room.

"Good morning Mr. O'Brien," smiled Hermione, all signs of nerves gone. "How are you feeling today?"

Paul O'Brien, an old bald headed black man, looked up at her with a worried expression. "I need my meds, doc. I'm seeing them again."

"Of course, Mr. O'Brien. Thank you for coming in today." Hermione began to prepare a prop needle that they used in Muggle situations to explain away the magic. "And how are you sleeping Mr. O'Brien?"

"Quite well, actually. Slept all through the night this past week," he said proudly.

Hermione deftly began the modified obliviate spell, _die somnis_, while asking Paul about his shop. Once she finished the spell Paul closed his eyes and seemed to faint for a moment. Hermione glanced at Jenn who reassured her with a smile. Paul opened his eyes a few seconds later.

"The needle gets me every time. Faint like a little boy at the thought of my crush sitting beside me," Paul laughed and heaved himself to his feet. "Well thanks again, ladies. You have yourselves a lovely day!" And without another word he walked out of St Mungo's thinking he had just left a small health clinic.

Hermione beamed. Usually she had trouble carrying on a conversation while completing the spell, but not today!

"Hermione that was amazing! Well done. This probationary period is going to be great for me; I won't have to do anything for three months! You know, I've always wanted to take up knitting," Jenn joked as the two women left the patient room and headed toward the private hallway containing their offices.

Hermione sighed in relief as she closed her door to her office and filled out the paperwork of her first solo patient. She magically made a copy and stuck it to the wall with a wave of her wand. The other copy she put into her filing cabinet in the back corner of her too white office. _It really is _too_ white in here_, she thought. Suddenly she was struck by a rather clever idea. During her Healer training she had read a book about perception charms and how they relate to memory, _but maybe…_

Hermione waved her wand a few times in what resembled the shape of a lion (yes, it was a tricky manoeuver to pull off) and the walls turned to a lovely burgundy with bright gold trim, what could she say, she was a Gryffindor through and through. But here is the clever bit: the perception filter would allow anyone who walked in to see whatever colour they desired. In fact, she could change the colour any time that she wanted. The spell reminded her of how Harry described the mirror of Erised combined with the Room of Requirement; hopefully her office would not end up like the mirror or the Room of Requirement. _I wonder how long the charm will last_, she thought, making a note of the date and attaching it to the wall with another casual flick of her wand.

Hermione Granger really did seem to be the smartest witch of her age. However, several times in the following months Hermione Granger's intelligence would for once—outside of Professor Snape's potions class—come into question.

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**A/N: I hope that you liked it! And fear not, Draco will be making an appearance shortly.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Heaven, Hell, and Somewhere in Between

It was not until Hermione was standing in the HIT lunchroom armed with her beaded bag trying to find her usual lunch partner that she remembered that she now had access to the Healer staff lounge on the opposite end of the fifth floor. The spacious and much coveted Healer staff room with Hogwarts-esque chairs and floating trays of pumpkin pasties and ever-hot tea pots with too many choices of tea to choose from, not to mention the small library in the back corner of fiction and non-fiction medical books. Rumour had it that there were even some Muggle books crammed onto the overpopulated shelves. Another rumour had it that Terrance Avery, a known relative of the famous Death Eater Tom Avery, could been seen from time to time spiriting away a copy of said Muggle books, or so Amy claimed.

Hermione waved her wand in front of the door in a circular motion and the door swung open for her. Hermione thought that the Healer staff room would be just like the HIT lunch room or the general public's tea room; table and chairs, a sink, a fridge, some counter space and a lot of old magazines, plus, of course, the touted bookcase. She figured that the overblown stories that Amy told her were just that; stories. For once, she was happy to be wrong. Let's just say that there was not just one, but several chandeliers hanging from the magically augmented ceilings. While the rest of the building was concrete, this room appeared to be made out of marble and had two large walls of cathedral style windows letting in the gloomy light from the rainstorm still taking place outside. In front of the windows ran two large purple couches. A large fireplace with a black mantle dominated the third wall and was surrounded by small tables and several chairs that Hermione believed were actually stolen from Hogwarts (_Was that a crest in the bottom corner?_) they looked so identical and comfortable. A few mahogany dining tables filled in the part of the room closet to the –Hermione did a double take—there was a mini kitchen! Seriously; an oven, a sink, a large fridge, a microwave (_How on earth did they get a microwave to work with all of this magic floating in the air?_), a coffee machine, an espresso machine, a kettle, several cupboards with glass doors revealing hundreds of tea cups and different types of tea. And in the far corner, _the_ bookcase. Hermione nearly fainted.

"There you are!" exclaimed Ernie Macmillan walking over to Hermione with a smile on his face. Ernie was a stout sandy blond Hufflepuff prefect from Hermione's year at Hogwarts who, despite his overwhelming pompousness, was generally an alright guy. Ernie specialised in Magical Maladies and their vaccination.

"I…I…" She babbled still trying to comprehend the overwhelming marvelousness of the staff room. A floating tray bumped into her arm, poured her a strong cup of tea with one milk and nudged itself at her until she took a precautious sip. "It's the perfect temperature," she said shakily. She set the tea cup back onto the floating tray.

Ernie smiled and lead her over to an armchair near the roaring fire. "I know."

They both stared at each other for a moment in wonder, then broke out laughing. "This is amazing!" The two exclaimed at the same time.

"I just can't believe the book case. It's more magnificent than I could have imagined. Amy said it was only two bookshelves, but there are at least six! And look how overflowing they are—"

"Bet that drives you nutters, Granger."

"Well, yes actually, in fact, with a simple extension charm I should be able to—" Hermione realised suddenly that it was not from Ernie that the following statement had come from. She looked up at Draco Malfoy who was towering above her with a smirk on his face.

Draco Malfoy: tall, short messy bleach blond hair—but longer than it was in school—, pale as a vampire, skinny (but who knows how he really looked under all those robes?), pointed noise, and white robes that somehow flattered his frame; ex-bully, ex-death eater, current who-gives-a-shit-about-that-asshole-anymore and now fully licenced Healer specialised in injuries caused by potions, Draco Malfoy.

Draco quickly moved out of her line of vision and sat down in the armchair closest to the fire and to Ernie, Mack, as he called him—dare I say it—affectionately. Hermione looked back at the book case trying to not let Draco's appearance sour her mood. He usually didn't even acknowledge her presence, _Odd_.

"Yes, with a simple extension charm the books would all fit on the shelf. Then I could organise them by subject and author…" Hermione trailed off thinking about the best way to sort the books and was halfway through an undetectable extension charm before she realised that she had left her seat.

Mack was chuckling from his probably-stolen-from-Hogwarts-luxury-armchair near the fire. Hermione looked back at him briefly before returning her attention to the tragedy of a book case before her. In less than three minutes every book had a place on the shelf and each section was labelled for easy retrieval. Amy was right, there were several Muggle books, and, Hermione noted, they were all sappy romance novels centred on hospitals. She made a note to donate some older books from her personal collection that she already had more than one copy of. Hermione opened her beaded bag and _accioed_ her roast beef sandwich and pumpkin pasties from the unending depths. She grabbed a book at random and headed over to the long couch in front of the window. Too absorbed in the first few pages of _Most common magical maladies and how to prevent them_ by Glenda Wiggins to notice that many plush pillows lining the ten foot couch or the various throw blankets. She also did not notice Ernie and Draco talking about her a few feet away.

"Honestly that woman would not even notice if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named rose from the dead and was parading around naked if she were reading a book," chuckled Ernie.

Draco scrunched his face at the image of the Dark Lord naked, _did he even have genitals? _"Some people never change, Mack," Draco stated glancing at Hermione's back, neck bent over her book intently.

Ernie looked back at Draco intensely for a moment. "And some people do," he said firmly. Ernie then changed his tone and asked how Draco's morning was. Draco grunted in response. "Hermione is too busy reading a book to notice my presence and you refuse to talk to me. I need to make new friends," Ernie sulked. He poured himself another glass of tea and began eating some of the cream cheese and cucumber sandwiches that were also floating around the room on trays.

He sighed in content and watched Draco primly prepare himself a cup of steaming earl grey tea, black, as usual. Ernie relaxed into the couch, extremely happy that he was finally allowed in the Healer staff lounge, and, he decided, he was never going to leave.

* * *

Hermione's wand alarm jerked her out of her reading about Spattergroit and how it was more common than most people thought—Always wash your elbows! She flicked open her pocket watch and saw that it had already been a full hour. Hermione quickly looked around her and noticed that Ernie (surprisingly) and Draco (thankfully) were nowhere in sight. She scampered to her feet replacing the book to its new found home and rushing to the staff elevator to her next appointment for the day.

* * *

Having a few spare minutes between appointments, Hermione could be found at her desk writing a letter to the editor of _The_ _Daily Prophet_, Lavender Brown, and _The Quibbler_, Luna Lovegood. Although Hermione would be seeing them both that Friday, she wanted communication for this particular project of hers to be official seeing as she was going to represent the hospital itself.

_To whom it may concern,_

_I am writing this letter to inform you of my interest in pioneering an educational medical column on behalf of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries on a bi-monthly basis. This column would include helpful tidbits of information about spells and potions that can eliminate visits to the hospital as well as keep the wizarding populace aware of new developments and inventions within the medical community. I would also be interested in sharing information about Muggle medicine as I feel knowledge is an important step in acceptance of the Muggle community within the wizarding one. This column would be free of charge on behalf of St Mungo's Hospital._

_ I hope to hear from you soon,_

_ Hermione Granger_

Hermione was very excited about the idea of becoming a columnist and was somewhat surprised when Amy told her that Bonham had approved her project proposal shortly after leaving Hermione's office earlier that morning. Unfortunately she would not be compensated for her new creative pursuits, but knowing that she was helping people was enough for Hermione (not to mention the fact that the Ministry had paid herself and Harry more than enough money to live happily for the rest of her life). Hermione already had a few ideas for her first article; it would either include diagrams on spells to heal bruises or information about Dragon Pox, she had not yet decided. The thought that the _Prophet_ or the _Quibbler_ would not accept her proposal did not even cross her mind; she was, after all, Hermione Granger.

Hermione headed to the mailroom to the cages that housed Balthazar, Jurrah, Gordon, and Persephone, the fourth floor owls. She tied her letters to Balthazar, a brown owl who was by far her favourite and ruffled his feathers before heading toward her next appointment for the day. Balthazar puffed out his chest in pride at being chosen to deliver a letter and swooped out of the Owlery in a way that would have made the other three owls roll their eyes, were that a common trait that owls did. Instead Persephone hooted twice and began cleaning her feathers as if nothing had happened.

"What do we have now?" asked Hermione eagerly as she and Jenn sanitised their hands.

"Lisette Bourdon, remember her?" Jenn asked somberly.

"Twelve year old muggleborn girl with the burns from a Death Eater attack. Curse was delivered by a faulty wand. Have not found a counter curse, but have found a temporary spell to make the burns fade and take away the pain. She visits the hospital every two months," Hermione recited; she had worked with Lisette during her HT (Healer Training) on a few occasions. "Loves painting," Hermione added in as an afterthought.

The Healers opened the door to the patient room and were greeted by a smiling blond Lisette and her smiling blond parents.

"Bonjour, Healer Granger," Lisette said happily.

"Bonjour Lisette, comment ça va aujourd'hui?" Hermione replied in perfect French.

This was what Hermione hated about being a Healer, seeing people like Lisette who would have to come to the hospital for the rest of her life; despite the fact that they had magic, not everything could be healed. What Hermione loved about being a Healer was encountering people who showed such courage and optimism in the face of a lifetime of pain or ostracism. Despite the fact that Lisette was not only tortured by a Death Eater, she would permanently pay the price of one person's hatred, but Lisette still came to the hospital every time with a smile on her face.

"Très bien Healer Granger! L'école a commencé…" Lisette began rambling about school while Hermione carefully waved her wand near Lisette's face. Lisette, used to this procedure, sat still, but continued to gush about how much she loved Hogwarts and how much her English had improved in the past year.

* * *

A banner that dispensed confetti every five minutes or so that read: "Welcome to the team!" hung above the crowd of Healers pressing in on Hermione. She retreated toward her little corner of heaven engulfed in this overwhelming Hell of too many people. She smoothed down the plain black dress that she had brought for this exact occasion as she navigated her way through the babbling inferno of Healers.

Hermione remarked angrily that someone had not returned _A Summer in the Doctor's Arms_ to its correct place on the bookshelf. _I bet it was Avery, the Muggle-hating devil_. _I wonder what spell Madam Pince used to make the books return to their proper shelves…_ Hermione thought. She flicked her wand setting an alarm to remind herself to owl her old librarian (and arch nemesis/secret idol). She picked up the sappy romance novel and moved to place it in the fiction section when a voice cut her off.

"Didn't peg you for a romantic, Granger," remarked Draco Malfoy who also seemed to be retreating from the impressive amount of professionals crammed into the large staff room (_I wonder who is on shift right now missing this party_, Hermione thought absentmindedly).

"Didn't know you could read, Malfoy," Hermione retorted. Even though they were more civil due to their necessity to work with one another and their mutual friend who insisted that the three of them sit together at lunch, Hermione still could not stand more than three minutes in Draco Malfoy's presence. She mentally started counting down the seconds.

"You complete lack of wit hurts me more than your lackluster insult. Seriously Granger, were you even educated on the art of rhetoric?" Malfoy asked and Hermione could have sworn that he had pointed his nose slightly further up in the air. _30 seconds down._

"Were you?" she asked incredulously.

"Of course," Draco replied, offended, "all Malfoys are." Hermione rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't understand," he continued, a smile on his face, "it's what we –"

"Purebloods do?" Hermione interjected angrily. _That only took 45 seconds._

"No, what I was going to-"

"Seriously Malfoy," Hermione continued without waiting to hear his response, "I can't believe you got hired, you haven't changed your backwards ideas. Harry should have never testified for you, you haven't changed one bit; all you care about is blood purity!" Hermione ranted, becoming flustered with rage.

"I was going to say-" Draco tried to interrupt again, to no avail.

"For all you know I was trained in rhetoric, but if that would have made me as much of a pompous ass as you are, then I am glad that I wasn't!" Hermione huffed.

"I was going to say," Draco interrupted loudly, "it's what we 'backwards' purebloods do for fun." Hermione stared at him blankly, not understanding. "It's a joke," Draco clarified. "Honestly, I try to be friendly and I am accosted by a witless wonder."

"Witless wonder?" Hermione said indignantly.

"I'm sorry I even started this conversation, Granger. I'll go find another corner to wait in until Mack decides that he can leave." Draco began to walk away.

"Why are you waiting for Ernie?" Hermione asked to his retreating back, refusing to call Ernie by the ridiculous nickname that Draco had concocted.

"Why do you care?" Draco asked as he turned around.

"He's my friend too." Draco did not respond, so Hermione added, "I thought that Ernie lived alone."

Draco cracked a smile at the thought of himself and Mack living in the same apartment. Now _that_ would be something. "He does," was all that Draco said, preferring to see Hermione fight between her curiosity and her hatred for Draco.

"Well…?" Hermione demanded.

"Well," Draco responded with a smirk.

Hermione stared at him pointedly, then asked loudly, making a few heads turn in their direction, "Why are you waiting for him!"

"Take a potion, Granger. Mack's planning on having a few firewhiskeys tonight and I said that I would get him home alright. You know Mack, he can't hold his alcohol."

Hermione was taken aback and did not know how to respond. The thought that Malfoy actually cared about Ernie's well-being seemed suspect. And for that matter, why did he even come over to talk to her at all when they avoided speech at almost all costs? Not to mention the fact that he had _joked_ with her earlier. _Draco Malfoy_. Joking. With Hermione Granger. Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"What? You don't believe me, Granger? Is that big old brain of yours thinking of what my ulterior motives are?" Draco asked sarcastically. He approached her as he continued, "Why did I become a Healer in the first place, why did I choose St Mungo's? Why am I here, right now, talking to you?" As he asked the last question he was an arms-length away from Hermione who did indeed seem to be asking herself these questions, for the _n_th time.

"And what are you answers, Malfoy?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," he smiled and sat down in the chair in front of the bookshelf.

Hermione replaced _A Summer in the Doctor's Arms_ to its proper place in the fiction section and sat down in purple armchair opposite of Draco. She glanced at his immaculate black suit paired with a white skinny tie and his styled hair. It was then that Hermione realised that Draco never spoke to anyone aside from Ernie, and he must have felt completely out of place at this party full of somewhat tipsy and all too cheerful colleagues who wished that he had not been accepted into the HIT program at St. Mungo's, let alone survived the war.

Hermione was about to apologise for her antagonism earlier when Draco said quietly from his place across from her, without making eye contact, "Listen," he paused and glanced at her, looked back at the party just as Mack popped a bottle of champagne ("It's not a celebration until the champagnes out!") then looked back at Hermione, "I'm sorry."

"Malfoy, it's fine, you were joking, although you're not that funny-" Hermione excused him, wanting to go back to their awkward silent treatment that they gave one another in lieu of addressing their past.

"No," he paused, then looked at her again and Hermione noticed how grey his eyes were, "I'm sorry."

In a split second Hermione revisited all the cruel things that Draco Malfoy had said and done to her. Hermione laughed. She didn't mean to, but did he honestly think that saying 'sorry' would forgive him for years of bullying or excuse the fact that his actions resulted in the death of Dumbledore, that he just _stood there_ while she was being tortured? And she asked him just that, leaving out her encounter with Bellatrix Lestrange because, even after all these years, she was not yet ready to talk about it.

Draco smiled sadly at her and replied, "You're right. It doesn't excuse anything, I just figured I should let you know." Draco moved to leave Hermione again.

"Well actions speak louder than words," _and you just stood there._

Draco sat back down, holding Hermione's eye contact. "Know that I am choosing to sit beside you then, even though your terrible sense of style looks like it may be contagious and your utter lack of social skills are worse than a Giant's," he said while eyeing her plain dress, however, it was said with a smile.

Hermione smiled faintly, remembering Grawp and wishing that Ron and Harry were there. _Stupid healer only party._

Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy sat watching the crowd of Healers in front of them counting down the minutes until it was socially acceptable to leave.

* * *

Hermione supported Ernie on his left side while Draco held onto his right as the three staggered down the foggy empty London streets. Hermione huffed in frustration as Ernie sang the Hogwarts song—_Hoggy Warty Hogwarts!—_terribly off key and directly into her ear.

"This is why I do not drink a lot," she commented under her breath.

Ernie stopped his song and said, "Hermione, you should have a drink! Let's go out for drinks! On me!" He then began singing the Hogwarts anthem, seeming to forget his last proclamation.

Draco rolled his eyes and thanked the gods that he did not believe in that they had finally reached Ernie's flat. _At least he lives on the first floor_, Draco thought, shuddering at the idea of having to haul him up a staircase.

"Do you have your keys Ernie?" Hermione asked patiently.

Draco, on the other hand, was no longer patient. "Where are your keys you tosser?"

"Draco!" Hermione scolded, but quickly cut herself off when Ernie's keys were suddenly pushed into her face. Hermione took them and let the three of them stumble into Ernie's surprisingly messy flat. Hermione had only ever been there once, and had never actually entered the building. It really was nothing special, except that while Hermione and Draco were unceremoniously dumping Ernie onto the couch, Hermione noticed an extravagantly large television screen had been rigged up in front of his luscious deep purple sofa.

"Well, good night, Ernie. I'm casting a recovery position charm on you so that you don't choke on your own vomit, you can thank me tomorrow morning when you wake up, _alive_," Ernie was asleep before Hermione finished speaking.

"You now see why I had to wait around for him, Granger?" Draco asked as the two of them left Ernie's apartment, locking the door with a wave of Draco's wand (_He really should be more cautious, a Muggle could have been looking_).

"Touché, Malfoy. Thanks for your help tonight," Hermione said sincerely. She began walking toward her flat and went to call good night over her shoulder to Draco only to jump back two feet screaming because he was directly behind her.

"Oh calm down Granger. I live in the same area as you," Draco rolled his eyes at her dramatics.

"How do you know that?" She demanded, suspicious once again.

"Because I see you every morning, you dolt." Draco realised his error and corrected himself: "No, not like—I don't stalk you!"

"I don't know Malfoy, you do seem kind of guilty," Hermione teased noticing the faint blush on his cheeks. "If you know where I live how come I've never seen you before?"

"Because I don't go parading around like you do. Believe it or not, Malfoy is not a well-liked name, even if we are in Muggle London," Malfoy admitted quietly.

"Oh."

"People don't cram themselves into my office to welcome me to the team; they avoid my presence at all costs and try to forget that I exist."

Hermione was silent after this honest confession from Malfoy. In the three years that she ate lunch with him he never spoke about how people treated him after the war. In fact he never really spoke at all. Today was the most interaction she had had with him since she saw him on day one of HIT, _and wasn't that a disaster_. She thought back to the staff welcome party and realised that she did not once see Draco interacting with anyone aside from herself and Ernie. That sea of friendly faces must have seemed so hostile to Draco.

"Why Muggle London?" she asked after a few minutes of awkward silence as they continued down the foggy lamp lit street.

"Less people who know me. Less possibility of an…" Draco did not seem to want to finish his sentence. In fact, he stopped walking. Hermione looked back at him confused. "This is you," Draco pointed out.

"Oh," Hermione astutely responded. "Well," there was another awkward silence, "goodnight."

"Good night, Granger."

Draco was quickly swallowed by the London mist. Hermione stared after him digesting this new information. She had never thought about his life really. All she could ever think about when she saw him was—_No_. She was in a good place, and she would not think about that time and ruin all of the progress that she had made. _Innocent victim or not, Draco Malfoy was still a git_. Hermione unlocked the main door to her building with a flick of her wand, after assuring that no one was looking, and tromped up the three flights of stairs to her flat.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed and is following this story! I should be updating it at least every Monday if not more often.

xoxo

hufflepuffs anonymous


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner

Hermione Granger was awoken by an annoying ringing that got louder and louder the longer she ignored it. She opened her eyes with a start and realised that her alarm was going off. She turned it off quickly blinked a few times forgetting why she was awake. _What day was it?_ Then she remembered that she wanted to get up early so that she could explore the coffee shop run by Paul, her first patient from yesterday morning. After a steaming shower, Hermione threw on an old pair of blue jeans and a light blue t-shirt and began making lunch. It was then that she remembered that heaven on earth did exist and it was called the Healer Staff Room and it often had lunch conveniently floating around on sparkling silver trays. She continued out the door, sans lunch, grabbing her white Healer robes on the way.

Once outside Hermione squinted into the unusually strong sunlight and began her short walk to St Mungo's. She surreptitiously tried to locate Malfoy who claimed that he lived near her, but was only greeted by unfriendly business women and men hurrying to their dissatisfying day jobs. As Hermione walked past Ernie's flat she paused for a moment. _What if my recovery position charm didn't work?_ She worried. She changed directions and knocked on his door sharply.

"Ernie?" Hermione called when he did not answer. "ERNIE?!" She shouted, somewhat panicked. She wondered what locking charms he had put on his door and figured that she could probably break them. She has just pulled out her wand when the door swung open. She was greeted by her stalker himself.

"Quiet down will you, you'll wake the whole neighbourhood. Have you ever dealt with an angry Muggle? Because I have. And I need at least three coffees in me before I would even consider it," Malfoy said with a scowl on his face.

Hermione pushed past him ignoring him. "Ernie?" She tried again and almost jumped out of her skin when a freshly bathed Ernie MacMillan jumped into the door frame of his living room.

"Hermione!" Ernie gave her a hug. "Thank you so much for helping last night. Draco was just telling me that you refused to leave me alone with him, because who knows that he'll do," Ernie said rolling his eyes. "You have good intentions Hermione, but you need to realise that Draco isn't that much of a twat anymore, he's just somewhat of a twat."

"Thanks, Mack," Draco said leaning on the still quite messy living room door frame.

"Righto, I am ready to go. Shall we?" Ernie asked with a smile on his face. He lead the way outside and locked his door after Hermione and Draco had left. "So, what is the name of that coffee place that you were just talking about, Dray?" He asked as the three began to awkwardly walk down the narrow sidewalk. Hermione ended up walking behind the two.

"Do not call me that," Draco said his voice dripping with disdain.

Hermione had an uneasy feeling in her stomach when Ernie said 'coffee shop'. She also catalogued the fact that Draco hated being called 'Dray' under 'important' in her brain to save for a later date.

"Sure thing, Dray. So this coffee shop. It's where again?" Ernie asked with a smile.

Draco didn't answer for a moment then responded, "Like I said, it's across from St. Mungo's."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You have got to be kidding me."

Draco looked back at her, but said nothing. Apparently it was back to not talking directly to one another.

"Don't tell me you hate this place, Hermione. We never get to eat breakfast together. Please just this once?" Ernie stopped walking and pouted at Hermione, then at Draco, then back at Hermione.

"Fine. But only because you said please. And not because you used that ridiculous pouty face that you seem to think people find irresistible!"

The rest of the walk to Paul's coffee shop was spent with Ernie recounting what parts of the night he could remember—"did I kiss Bonham?!"—and Hermione re-stating how he needed to learn healthy drinking habits several times.

_Paul's_ was a small coffee shop nestled between two ten-storey boring office buildings, one called _Grunnings_ specialised in drills. _Paul's_ coffe shop had a quaint sign on it in handwriting that read "Paul's" with "coffee, tea and breakfast" written underneath in bold font. The two large windows in the front showed that the small store was a packed with ill-disguised Healers (most didn't even try and hide their white robes with the bold St. Mungo's symbol of two crossed wands) and even more oblivious Muggles.

The unlikely threesome shouldered their way through the crowd and into the line-up. Hermione began reading the menu as the heavenly smell of eggs and bacon wafted over to her. Trying not to drool, she located the "Deluxe Breakfast" on the menu and knew what she was ordering. Ernie was still reading when Draco stepped forward and placed his order of toasted rye bread with butter and eggs and a large Earl Grey, black, to go, with the ease of someone who ordered the same thing every day. Hermione stared at him. Draco Malfoy lived in Muggle London. Lived near _her _in _Muggle_ London, and frequented a _Muggle_ coffee shop. _Draco Malfoy_. She shook her head in wonder and did not realise that the teenager behind the cash was asking her for her order.

Hermione waited patiently for her food wondering if Paul was the type of business owner to work in his own shop or the type to leave other people to do the grunt work. He was nowhere in sight. She shrugged her shoulders and grabbed her massive plate of mouth-watering food and sat down across from Malfoy. They both began eating quietly awaiting Ernie, who had still not finished placing his order. Sometimes Hermione wondered how she got herself into these situations. Eating at a Muggle coffee shop with Draco Malfoy and Ernie MacMillan. And the last time she checked pigs were not flying and hell had not frozen over. Remembering his confession from the other day, Hermione decided to try and not be so suspicious of everything that Malfoy did. Maybe he was just trying to nicer. Maybe he was trying to atone for his past mistakes. _And maybe I'm a hippogriff_, she thought with a snort.

Draco looked up at her then, confused as to why she had snorted loudly and realised that she had been staring at him. He began to speak, but was cut off by Ernie loudly sliding into the only empty seat at their table.

"I cannot believe this menu! There are so many choices. Apparently the guy who owns this place, Paul, makes all the food himself." Ernie exclaimed. He took a bite of his pancakes and groaned. "I _need_ this recipe!" He got out after loudly swallowing his pancake.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please Ernie, I already have to bear witness to Ron's terrible eating habits, I really don't want to add you to that list."

"No one can match Weasley in his quest to disgust the universe with his lack of table manners. Even I noticed his ghastly chewing from across the Great Hall," Malfoy added unexpectedly.

Despite herself, Hermione met his eyes and they shared a smile.

Although Hermione expected the meal to be unpleasant, it was like any other lunch in the HIT lunch room, mostly punctuated with Ernie and her chatting about new developments in medicine with Draco occasionally chiming in; it was not unpleasant. As they crossed the street to St. Mungo's Hermione realised that Draco was no longer among them. Content to continue on, she was stopped by Ernie.

"When are you going to quit that, Draco? I never should have introduced you to smoking," Ernie shouted across the street to Draco who was standing outside of _Paul's_ with a smoking cigarette in hand.

Draco did not respond and Hermione gave him a faint smile before continuing into St. Mungo's and powering her way to the staff lift. If she got there in time, she wouldn't have to listen to Ernie complain about how unwelcoming she was to Draco all the time, blah, blah blah. She was blessedly alone as she made her way up to the fourth floor. Ernie was still outside talking to Draco who had joined him on the other side of the road.

"You're the one that got me hooked on them, Mack. Whose fault is it really?" Draco asked sardonically.

Ernie rolled his eyes and changed the topic; "Breakfast was nice."

"I told you, Paul is even better than my house elves were."

"Why can't you ever say more than two words to Hermione at a time? Seriously, making amends is never going to happen if you just sit around in silence," Ernie said changing the topic completely and might I add, very subtly.

"How many times do we have to discuss this, MacMillan? She hates me. She will never not hate me. And who can blame her?"

"Stop." Ernie stated sternly. "You are trying to change. You made stupid decisions when there was little else that you could do. And now you're making up for it. Stuff your little pity party. All I'm asking is that you be more obvious with the fact that you are trying to make amends."

"Well I told her sorry yesterday."

"You what?!" Ernie yelped as Draco stomped out his cigarette and walked into St. Mungo's. Ernie followed him and they both avoided the welcome witch who seemed determined to get a greeting in return from them. Draco nudged a toddler with steam pouring from its ears into her path instead and the two were able to sneak by unscathed. "And you're just telling me this now, because…"

"Because, she—it doesn't matter," Draco sulked as they stood in the staff lift listening to the bloody cheerful music.

Ernie waited a few seconds to see if Draco would continue without being prompted, but in the end he had to ask: "Because she what?"

Draco was silent. He looked at the ground as he confessed under his breath, "Because she laughed at me." Ernie was silent, unsure of what to say. "I said I was sorry and she laughed," Draco said again, a hint of anger tinting his voice. "Does she not understand how much it took for me to say that? To look her in the eye, knowing, knowing everything that _I_ have done to her. That my _family_ has done to her? That happened during the war, and even before…And she laughed."

Ernie went to say something but the lift doors opened onto the third floor and Draco fled to his small office and locked the door before Ernie had even taken three steps. _Well then._ Ernie wandered over to his own office on the opposite end of the floor from Draco's, smiling at everyone he passed and pondering Hermione Granger's reaction and Draco Malfoy's feelings. Now that was something that the former Hufflepuff never thought he would be concerned about. Life was full of surprises. Ernie's head hurt, and not just from drinking copious amounts of firewhisky the night before (although, that didn't help much).

* * *

Despite seeing the Healer Staff Room not only once, but twice, the preceding day, Draco Malfoy still found that it had not lost its charm. He remembered seeing Hermione's look of awe when she had first walked into the room and imagined that that was how his face would have looked if he ever revealed his emotions. He grabbed a cucumber avocado sandwich from one of the nearby floating trays and a steaming Earl Grey tea. He summoned the book that he had been reading in his office and took a seat in one of the Hogwarts chairs (_that was definitely a crest in the bottom corner_) in the far corner by the large window. With the sun streaming down on his face he continued to read.

Draco Malfoy, unlike Hermione Granger, was always well aware of his environment around him while reading. However, Draco Malfoy, unlike Hermione Granger, was good at masking any sort of emotion from his face. So when Hermione Granger sat down on the long couch beside his stolen Hogwarts armchair (_seriously, how did they get away with that one? They had to have had inside help…_ Draco suspected Peeves), he feigned ignorance. From the corner of his eye he noted that she was holding a large book in front of her and eating one of the delicious sandwiches provided by the room. Which had him wondering—

"Who makes these?" Hermione stated after taking a large bite of her sandwich.

Draco looked up at her then, somewhat confused. He glanced around and realised that she was in fact addressing him and not someone else in their general vicinity. Which was odd because Mack was nowhere in sight. "Er…" he astutely commented.

"I hope that it's not House Elves. I mean, I know I did get that law passed last year," she said proudly, "but the wizarding community is just so hard to change. Honestly, how difficult is it to provide workers with decent wages and proper beds and clothing?" Hermione harrumphed, talking more to herself than Draco.

Draco recalled seeing her campaigning in the hospital lobby last year asking for signatures from every passerby. He also remembered her gushing to Mack about the fact that Bill C s224.b was passed. He even remembered her mentioning a celebration party chez the Weasley clan. But what he remembered most of all was his lack of an invite despite the fact that he had indeed signed her damn petition. _Fucking Granger._

"I'm going to send a memo to Healer Bonham to make sure that we're not benefiting from the exploitation of helpless creatures," Hermione pulled out a small note book from her breast pocket and summoned a quill. She dashed off her note and Draco watched as it whizzed away.

He took a bite of his sandwich, unsure of what to say. Hermione watched him with narrowed eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

Draco swallowed and looked her in the eyes as he asked: "Is there a problem, Granger?"

She pointedly looked at the sandwich that was once again headed toward his mouth.

"You've got to be kidding," he exclaimed.

"So you think that it is perfectly acceptable to exploit others, Malfoy?" Hermione demanded scathingly. "Figures," she spat out.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I didn't bring a lunch, Granger."

"Neither did I!"

Draco stared her down for a moment. It was only because he remembered his promise to Mack to be nicer to Granger that he lowered his sandwich. "I hope you're happy," he said rudely.

Hermione smiled brightly and jumped up from her seat. "I am." She began to walk toward the door. She stopped suddenly, then looked round for Draco. "Well…"

"Well, what?" he asked, not nicely. In his defense, he was hungry.

"I'm going to _Paul's_."

"Enjoy."

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. "And you say that I have no social skills."

"I'm proud that you are finally able to admit it, the first step is—"

"Would you like to join me?" Hermione cut him off, not believing that those words would ever pass her mouth in regards to Draco Malfoy.

"Where's Mack?" Draco responded, distinctly uncomfortable with the idea of spending more time alone with Hermione Granger.

"He sent me a memo saying that he was sick," Hermione explained, confused that Draco had not received one. "Did he not send you one?" she asked after a pause.

"I have not been in my office since this morning, there was a thing…" Draco trailed off quietly. Everything about him was a lot quieter than what Hermione remembered from their time together at Hogwarts.

Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly. "Well… I'm going to _Paul's_ where I can eat food that is not from slave labour. Feel free to join me."

Draco watched her leave. Once she was gone he realised that he should have followed her and jogged to catch the lift before she left. What followed was a very awkwardly silent trip over to _Paul's_. _Thank Merlin for elevator music_.

After ordering and sitting down, the awkward silence continued. Draco debated with himself whether or not he could to continue to read his book on the lasting effects of the _Cruciatus_ curse without seeming discourteous. Then Hermione summoned _Most common magical maladies and how to prevent them_ by Glenda Wiggins and began to read it while digging into her eggs and toast. Draco, unsurprised by her complete lack of social skills, (_two points Draco, zero Granger_), opened his own book without hesitation and the unlikely duo ignored one another's existence for the next forty five minutes.

* * *

Hermione buttoned up her fall coat and grabbed her beaded bag. Her feet ached from another long day at the hospital. She stepped onto her balcony so that she could apparate (her flat had an anti-apparition charm cast on it, except for her balcony) to the Burrow. Once there, she made her way past a few loose chickens and shifty looking garden gnomes. She walked in through the side door, declaring her presence loudly. She was greeted by Mrs Weasley a few moments later.

"Hermione, dear!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed happily. She gave her a one armed hug; she was holding a mixing bowl that was stirring itself in the other, and said "The boys are upstairs in the twins' room." Mrs Weasley's eyes fogged over for a minute as she remembered that only one twin used that room anymore.

Hermione whispered a thank you and edged out of the room awkwardly. She navigated her way through the haphazard living room and climbed the rickety and creaking staircase to George's room. She knocked once, in the usual secret knock—two fast, two slow, one fast—and headed in.

Everyone chorused their hellos as Hermione gave them all a quick hug. She installed herself between Harry and George who were fervently discussing Quidditch. Ginny and Ron were talking about a mistake that Ron had made recently; he had gone out on a date with someone that Ginny disapproved of, Hermione gathered. Hermione grinned, forgetting her sore feet and the proposal that she was working on for the "Miracle Squad"; being around her friends made her so much happier.

After Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone to bed, they ate a delicious cake that Mrs. Weasley had made (it had enchanted chocolate fountains streaming down the sides—it was times like these that Hermione thanked her lucky stars that she was a witch), Hermione brought up Draco's apology to her. Still unsure of how she felt about it herself, she was curious to see what her friends made of it.

"Are you joking!?" Ginny and Ron demanded at the same time.

"Wow," Harry said, looking surprised.

George remained silent with a perplexed look on his face.

"What did he say exactly?" Harry asked.

"Something along the lines of 'I'm sorry for everything'. It was right after I blew up at him, perhaps unjustly, since it turns out he was joking," Hermione recounted.

"Does he actually think that saying 'I'm sorry' excuses him for anything?" Ginny asked, incredulous.

"He was joking with you?" demanded Harry.

"'I'm sorry' won't bring Dumbledore back," Ron said angrily. "It won't get rid of your scars. It won't erase the sounds of your screams from my mind—"

"Ron!" George said sternly, looking at Hermione whose face had darkened.

"Sorry," he mumbled suddenly ashamed.

"I'm not entirely surprised," reasoned Harry, "I mean, we all know that he didn't actually want to kill Dumbledore. Hell, Dumbledore said it himself. And he didn't tell Bellatrix who we were at his house, even though he knew. I mean, it was pretty obvious that his heart was not in it from the get go." Everyone stared at him dumbstruck. "Don't get me wrong," Harry added quickly, "He was, and maybe still is, a blood prejudice git. I mean, he has called you the m-word since second year, Hermione. But, I mean. He was just a stupid spoiled kid taught all the wrong things." Once Harry finished speaking all that met him was silence. He looked into his friends' eyes and added, "Plus his mum saved my life."

Everyone agreed that sans Narcissa Malfoy Voldemort would still be at large and Harry would be dead. After Harry mentioned this, the tension seemed to ease out of the air somewhat.

"Maybe he was being serious," Ginny pondered aloud.

"Well don't you usually eat lunch with him and that Hufflepuff?" Ron questioned.

"_That Hufflepuff_ is Ernie MacMillan Ronald, please try and remember his name. He did fight beside us during the final battle. He and countless other _Hufflepuffs_ put their lives on the line that day, just like all of us here," Hermione said harshly.

"Wonder whatever happened to Malfoy's old gang," George commented out of the blue.

"They all hang out at the _Leaky Cauldron_ Friday nights, like us," Ginny said.

"Not all of them: Goyle died, the stupid oaf. Parkinson… I think she went to France for a while…" Ron said.

"I heard Romania," said Ginny. "I always see Zabini at the _Leaky_ what happened to him during the war?"

"I heard his mother got married another three times since the war, and was widowed another three times," George said with a smile.

"He never declared a side, did he?" questioned Ginny.

"Nope, neither did Parkinson," Harry added. "And then there's that Theodore Nott fellow, quiet, works at the Ministry."

"Who?" asked Ron.

"I feel kind of bad for Malfoy," Hermione admitted, cutting off Ron's inquiry. "I mean, he lives in Muggle London," this statement was meant with a few exclamations, "I think because if he lived in a wizarding area he would be harassed. And he was saying that everyone on the third floor at St. Mungo's pretends that he doesn't exist. I don't know, it must be lonely."

"Well, at least he's friend's with that—er—Ernie." Ron said.

"Yeah… It's odd, the past three years he has never been rude or once mentioned the war. Maybe he is changing…" Hermione said slowly. "He's never really been nice either, though…"

"Changing or not, he's still a pale git," stated George. He was greeted by laughter all around.

"Enough about the ferret! Hermione did you hear that I'm going to be the Harpies captain for next season?" Ginny asked proudly.

"That's amazing, Gin! Congrats!"

"Speaking of games, last week you all promised that we'd play Exploding Snap this week. And since it is in fact this week, are you all ready to be destroyed?" asked Ginny.

As her friends cleared space for a game that she, to be frank, had no patience for, Hermione thought more about Malfoy's changed behaviour. Then she thought about how pleasant her lunch had been today, the two of them sharing the silent pleasure of reading about medicine. Hermione hadn't realised how much of a constant presence Draco was in her life (she blamed Ernie) whether she wanted him there or not. Draco wasn't all that bad, if today was any indication. Her mind wondered to her proposal for the Miracle Squad again and she began drafting what it would say while pretending to pay attention to Exploding Snap—she had been eliminated during the first round, along with one of her eyebrows. She could not wait until tomorrow: Thursday was her favourite day.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: The Miracle Squad

Hermione hummed as she began her walk to _Paul's_, having decided that she could easily afford to buy breakfast every morning and not being able to deny her cravings for his god-like cooking abilities. As she looked both ways before she jay-walked illegally across the mostly empty London street Hermione noticed a blond head a half a block away from her. Seeming to notice her looking, Draco glanced in her direction. He hesitated for a moment, then continued walking down the sidewalk. _Now she really thinks that I stalk her_.

Hermione stared at him as he made his way toward her. She forced herself to smile. Once he was close enough to talk to, Hermione said, "Are you sure that you're not stalking me, Malfoy? I bet you don't even live in this part of town," she said with narrowed eyes.

"Trust me Granger, I would rather sit through one of Hagrid's classes than stalk you," Draco stated dryly.

Hermione, who secretly disliked Hagrid's courses wanted to laugh, but out of respect for Hagrid she stayed silent. They crossed the road together.

"Where are you going? Shift doesn't start for another forty minutes, Malfoy."

"Where are you going, Granger?"

"You lack of response leads me to believe that you are indeed following me. Do I need to owl the Auror office? Or perhaps call the Muggle police?"

Draco rolled his eyes and continued walking without a response. The rest of the trip to _Paul's_ passed in silence. This seemed to be a common trait between the two of them; silence or yelling.

They sat together out of habit. Draco and Hermione both summoned a book at the same time (after ensuring that the shop was entirely full of Healers) and read in silence. Instead of reading she thought of everything that they did not say to one another, sitting between the two of them loudly. Once outside, Draco lit his after-breakfast cigarette. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust and wished him a good day. On the lift to the fourth floor she thought to herself, _That wasn't so bad._ She rolled her shoulders forgetting the encounter and wondering who would be on her team this week for the Miracle Squad.

Hermione founded the Miracle Squad her second year of HT. Her Muggle background always made her wonder why wizards did not help Muggles heal bones, hearts, livers, etc. Muggle medicine was a walk in the park compared to magical medicine. Literally almost anything could be fixed. So Hermione had drafted a proposal, as she often did, to start the Miracle Squad. It was a little tricky to get the Ministry on board with performing magic in such close quarters with Muggles, but in the end being a third of the Golden Trio paid off ("Celebrity is as celebrity does"). They would visit a different Muggle hospital every Thursday and find a patient that needed a miracle, or in this case, a highly trained mediwitch or wizard. Hermione wanted to set up a permanent clinic in St Mungo's that would appear to be a 'holistic' family practitioner to desperate Muggles that was staffed on a rotationary basis by all of St. Mungo's staff. Considering it was a fairly easy job for any trained witch or wizard, working at the clinic would be like a day (or half day depending on availability) off. She had owled her proposal into the Bonham last night.

As of right now, the Miracle Squad was still on a volunteer basis. She had, thus far, only succeeded in getting the departments to allow their staff members to take a half day off, with no pay. But it was worth it.

She had on several occasions saved the lives of heart transplant patients, car accident patients, even once helped to replenish the blood of a stabbing victim so that Muggle doctors could sew her back up.

The volunteers varied on a week to week basis, but Ernie, Amy and Jenn were always present. As usual, they met in the HIT lunch room at 8 am and waiting until 8:15 in case any stragglers showed up.

"Good morning you two," Hermione said greeting Amy and Jenn who were standing closer than coworkers ought to.

Amy straightened her robes and took a half step away from Jenn and smiled back, "Let's go heal some Muggles!"

Ernie stumbled in a moment later yawning. "Sorry, 'Mione, just woke up a few minutes ago. I forgot to set my alarm." He yawned again, loudly.

"Okay team, we're heading to Surrey today, to a small hospital just off of—" Hermione cut herself off, not believing her eyes as Draco Malfoy walked through the door. He held his head high and looked her directly in the eyes.

"I believe this is where I was told to meet if I were interested in joining the," he paused here and tried to keep the disdain out of his voice when he said, "Miracle Squad." He did not succeed.

Hermione, offended by his obvious distaste for her _ingenious_ name, was torn between telling him that Muggle-haters were not welcome and jumping for joy at his sudden change of heart. Instead of doing either she said, "You're correct, Malfoy. As I was saying, we'll be heading to Surrey. I've arranged a portkey to leave in a few minutes. I'll just have Malfoy sign some forms." She then lowered her voice and directed herself only at Draco, "Everyone has to sign these, standard magically binding agreement that states that you will not intentionally attempt to maim, injure or otherwise hurt any of the Muggles that we come in contact with. It also talks about attempting to minimize the possibilities of performing magic in front of Muggles." Hermione waved her wand and a pen and some legal looking papers appeared.

Draco took them both gingerly and began to read leisurely.

"The portkey leaves in 30 seconds. You can't be on it unless you've signed these forms. Might want to hurry it along," Hermione said as she walked over to her friends. They were all transforming their robes to look like doctor's scrubs.

Hermione was expecting Malfoy to take the legal papers as his out. _Obviously he wasn't really trying to redeem himself, he was just trying to make himself feel better_, she thought. Then Malfoy's overly dignified bony finger was touching the stapler next to her own chubby one. He handed her the papers and she glanced at his loopy signature at the bottom. He had too transformed his robes into dark blue scrubs. She looked into his eyes, a question on her lips as the portkey jerked into action. All of her questions were quickly forgotten as she spun into oblivion and concentrated on not hurling.

* * *

Choosing who got to be blessed with a miracle was always the hardest part. It made Hermione consider leaving St Mungo's and being a rogue Healer who trolled random hospital hallways, but the hundreds of witches and wizards that needed her help too held her back. As usual, they split up and navigated their way through the hospital with the help of _confundus_ charms and good disguises. Hermione was in the pediatric ward, how she always ended up there, she would never know (probably her subconscious 'womanly' desire longer for children, _ha!_). She saw young boy with two broken arms sleeping. According to his sheet he would be in pain for the rest of his life due to the angle of the break and the location being so close to his elbow joints. Hermione healed him with a flick of her wrist.

She encountered a young girl with a disfiguring scar on her face. Hermione waved her wand discreetly so that the scar would fade faster over time until it was barely visible; the girl's sheet said that it would never heal properly. Hermione found a baby who was born blind. This was a bit trickier, but she was able to reconnect the retinas, the child would have very low vision, but she would be able to see.

She made her way through the hospital in this fashion only stopping where needed. Two hours and fifty children healed later she regrouped with the rest of her team. The second hour was spent in small teams to help with larger patient issues (one person was usually used to incapacitate a doctor so that the other could quickly save a life). Hermione paired herself with Draco and Ernie so that Draco could see how things usually worked during this session of the day.

Before they set off Hermione asked, "How has it been going so far, Malfoy?"

"Yeah, how many have you healed?" Ernie inquired, not so secretly hoping that he had cured more people.

"This place is insane, Granger. How do people come here to get healed? They're cutting people up around here!" Draco said, not quietly.

Hermione pulled them into a supply room and silenced the door. "Well, what did you expect, Malfoy? They're Muggles. They're doing the best that they can without magic."

"It's completely barbaric!"

Ernie was squished between the two of them, unsure of what to say.

"Barbaric? I'll tell you what's barbaric, discriminating against someone based on something that they—"

"Let's not get into blood purity here, Granger. I'm talking about how inefficient these fools are being. They _cut you open_! All the blood loss. The infections! They use drugs on _children_. Children!"

"Draco they're Muggles! What do you expect!? They don't have numbing potions, they don't have spells that heal bones in less than a second! They are doing the best that they can with what they have, and quite effectively too!" Hermione was breathing heavily and her blood was boiling. "Why are you even here? You have no clue about how the Muggle medicinal system works. You have no idea how to help anyone, and all you do is insult their intelligence! What was the point in even coming here, Malfoy!?"

Ernie cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I wanted to help!" Draco shouted into Hermione's red face, a faint blush on his pale cheeks. "No one will let me do _anything_ in the Potion's ward, they're all still too afraid that I am going to poison them." Draco took a deep breath, then added in a lower voice, "I want to help."

Ernie used this moment to intervene. "And what a great idea that is, isn't it? How about we all stop shouting because I don't know about you, but it's giving me a killer headache. Let's head over to the ER where we can be some help. Because we only have another 45 minutes before the portkey leaves."

Draco and Hermione stared at one another, chests heaving. Hermione narrowed her eyes in anger and crossed her arms across her chest while Draco looked at the ground sullenly, red sparks shooting from the end of his unsheathed wand.

"This is why I want to start that hospital wide PSA about Muggle medicine," Hermione huffed under her breath.

Ernie lead them toward the ER in silence, until he remembered, "Who did you heal, Dray?"

Draco rolled his eyes at the nick name, but ignored it. "A little girl broke her ankle, they said that she would never walk the same again. But now she will," he said in a detached voice, but Hermione saw the small smile at the corners of his mouth.

Hermione smiled despite herself. Draco Malfoy was an ignorant fool, but he cared. And that was more than anything she could have thought of him.

They left the hospital a little over an hour later using the same portkey that brought them there. The team agreed to meet one another again in ten minutes to discuss the day's successes over lunch (and no, the sandwiches were not made by slave labour, the House Elves were all paid and treated like the living creatures that they are, Hal-le-lu-jah).

* * *

"I got thirty-seven," Jenn said with a smile.

"Whatever, I cured forty," Amy said, sitting so close to Jenn on the obnoxiously long couch in the Healer Staff Room that she was practically screaming 'she's mine, bitches' to the entire room.

Hermione smiled, "It's not a competition. But getting the statistics is very important for my proposal, so please don't lie Amy." Hermione took a large bite of the ham sandwich she had found on one of the floating trays, it tasted even better knowing that House Elves were being paid for their exceptional catering skills.

"Okay, I only got thirty-six," Amy admitted with a smile, "but, like, the receptionist should totally count because I talked to him about his ex-wife who totally ruined his life. She left him at a family reunion, can you believe that! And, like, not just any family reunion, but this one was in Monaco. She just up and left with a Monacan. To be honest I kind of admire her because this guy seemed like a total waste of time. He didn't even know where the burn ward was and he's worked at that hospital for ten years. Seriously buddy, you have one job!" Amy ranted.

"Right, thanks Amy," Hermione spoke loudly before she could finish her story. "Ernie?"

"A personal best today: thirty. One of them was a grandmother. Broken hip, thought she would never walk again. But in comes her guardian angel, Ernie," he puffed up his chest.

"Perfect, thanks Ern. Draco?" Hermione ignored Ernie's usual dramatics.

Draco paused, not used to being called Draco by Hermione. He took a second to digest this revelation, decided that he liked it, then said, "Just the ones we did together, so fifteen, plus the one."

"Awesome," Hermione said without looking up from her tally sheet, "And I did fifty," she mumbled.

"What?!" Amy exclaimed, "Fifty?! Hermione. You are a miracle worker. That is insane! How did you even have the time to read fifty charts, let alone cure fifty people?"

Hermione blushed. "I work fast," was all that she said. "So plus the twelve that Amy and Jenn did together and the fifteen that Malfoy, Ernie and I did…" she continued to mumble under her breath, "brings us to…"

"181," Malfoy said in what might have been considered a tone of awe.

Hermione locked eyes with him for a moment. She found it extremely annoying that he had the last say on the total. After all this was _her_ project. Call her selfish, but she did envision the entire thing and get the Ministry and St. Mungo's on board. However, she tried not to express her anger, since she was trying to turn over a new leaf, as much as possible, when it came to Malfoy.

"Exactly. 181 Muggle miracles. That's amazing folks!" She did a little happy dance in her one-hundred-percent-stolen-straight-out-of-the-library-under-Madam-Pince's-pointy-nose Hogwarts armchair. "There's no way that statistics like this will be turned down on the next review board! Now we just need the funding to build a new wing on the fifth floor…" Hermione trailed off beginning to tally how much money it would cost to build a Muggle clinic and how much magic could help them save money. She was rich, but she was not _that_ rich.

After lunch Hermione joined Amy in her patient room ready to heal some battle wounds.

There was something fascinating about watching Healer Amy Adams work. She had the grace of a panther and the subtly of an elephant; meaning that she talked while she worked. Her ash-blonde hair tied into a neat bun on the top of her head, her Healer robes rolled up at the sleeves, her wand seeming to dance the tango while her mouth moved a mile a minute recounting her last trip to Diagon Alley and how disappointed she was with the selection at Madam Malkin's, really the old bat was losing her touch, peasant brown was so Medieval Ages!

The usual cases that Amy dealt with were pub fights. Most people who have had one too many Butterbeers, can't aim straight or do not even know what they are casting resulting in many nasty injuries. Today a man was bleeding profusely from his arm and leg. Hermione was reminded of the time she splinched Ron as they ran from the Ministry. She shrugged away the image and continued to cast her blood replenishing spell while Amy prattled on about her favourite Muggle cars, not that she had her driver's licence because driving itself was far too dangerous, especially when apparition and the Floo network existed, even brooms were better—this one time while on a broom a friend of a friend fell from over three hundred feet! Broke every bone in his body. While Hermione dealt with the man's arm, Amy was healing the patient's leg, which had a similar wound, except that it kept sniggering loudly every time she pointed her wand at it. This lead to a general amount of confusion and a large level of noise, between Amy's recounting of her Uncle Jim's last broom trip around the world in thirty days, the leg's laughter, and the man's groans of pain, Hermione could barely concentrate. She managed to close the wound in his arm with a last flourish of her wand. Amy had finished a few minutes before—how she finished before Hermione while recounting her crazy Uncle Jim's life story, Hermione would never know—, but was still debating what the safest method of travel was— boats were definitely out.

Hermione thanked the patient for his patience and left the room with Amy, who had only stopped her story to let the man know that he was going to be fine and that they would be right back.

"All in all, I think apparition is the most efficient way to travel, but most definitely the furthest from pleasant. And Mr. Watson will be needing a pain potion for tonight and for the next six days. Would you be able to go to the third floor and get one from the potions office?" Amy asked, interrupting her own story. "Although, one should never underestimate the joys of going for a nice walk," she continued without missing a beat. "In fact, I went for a walk in Hogsmeade just the other day…"

Hermione was saved by the dinging of the elevator and she hastily proceeded to the potions department.

"Granger," she was greeted by none other than where-do-you-keep-cropping-up-from Draco Malfoy. "What brings you to the lowly third floor? How the mighty have fallen."

"Please have the record state that you called myself, Hermione Jean Granger, muggleborn, 'mighty'."

"I'm sure I'll never live that one down," Draco mumbled.

"How does it feel, after all of these years of being on top, finally being beneath me, Malfoy?" Hermione questioned, victorious.

Draco did not respond for a moment, then he chuckled lightly, "I'll leave that one alone. What do you want, Grangie?"

It took Hermione a moment to realise what he meant. Her face turned an unhealthy shade of I-hate-Draco-Malfoy-red and she began stuttering.

Draco rolled his eyes. "What do you want? I have work to do."

"I don't know what you're trying to imply," Hermione finally got out.

"Of course you don't know what I'm implying. Maybe if that red headed freckled idiot that you called a boyfriend ever had the guts to show you—"

"Don't talk about Ron that way! And how do you know that we didn't—" Hermione cut herself off, realising how far off topic she was. A man was upstairs in pain for Merlin's sake! "To the point, I need two litres of pain potion separated into seven bottles."

"All you had to do was ask," Draco said with an irritating smirk. He summoned a large dark green potion bottle with small neat writing that declared 'pain potion' and distributed the potion in less than three seconds with the aid of his wand. He handed her the vials looking bored.

Hermione took them with a mumbled thanks and scampered toward the elevator without looking back to see an amused looking Draco who pretended to return to work, but who evidently had nothing to do and continued to fiddle with his wand as he was doing before Hermione's welcome distraction.

"Why is your face so red?" Amy asked once Hermione had returned from her trip. This comment just made Hermione more red and she did not respond as she loaded Amy's arms with potion and haughtily left the Spell-induced Injuries Ward trying desperately not to think about the fact that she had almost discussed her sex life with Draco Malfoy nor the mental image of her being on top of him—_ew_. That terribly disgusting and most unwelcome image took several hours to shut out of her mind. Hermione dreaded tomorrow morning where she had the sneaking suspicion that she would be seeing none other than Draco Malfoy at _her _usual breakfast café.

She went back to the Operations and Appointments wall to see if there was anyone who needed her specialisations. She came up empty handed. Hermione checked her mailbox and found that the _Daily Prophet_ and _Quibbler_ had arrived. Both featured two or three sentences stating that she, Hermione Granger, would be writing a Health and Wellness column for the newspapers. She began reading the _Prophet_ on her way back to her office, which was a lovely robin egg blue. Once she was through with both newspapers she took out two large pieces of parchment and began to write out the final copy of her column.

* * *

Healer Jennifer Adams stuck her head out into the hallway to check if the coast was clear. After a few seconds of quick verification she stuck her head back into the broom closet—which was surprisingly spacious—and gave Amy a quick kiss on the lips. When she pulled back she smiled and left the cupboard without another word, sauntering back to her office in the adjacent hallway.

Amy did not leave for another thirty seconds, still very flustered. When she did emerge from the cleaning supply closet she was a holding a bottle of all-purpose cleaner a little too tightly and there was a little too much red on her cheeks and a few too many hairs loose from her high bun.

Hermione was sitting beside Jenn's office door, white robes rolled up at the sleeves, hair in a messy bun, writing a letter on a very large piece of parchment. She looked up from the ground when Jenn stopped beside her. Hermione eyes flicked over the length of Jenn's unkempt frame and she blushed realising what Jenn and Amy had just finished doing somewhere in the belly of the hospital. Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"Why don't you just use one of your offices?"

"Pardon?" Jenn asked, a blush rising to her high cheekbones.

Hermione rose to her feet, quill and ink pot in one hand and parchment in the other. "We all know that you and Amy are…" Hermione trailed off, blushing as well. "Well, yeah. So why are you always sneaking around?"

Jenn looked Hermione in the eyes for a few seconds, then waved her wand and walked into her office, gesturing to Hermione to follow. Jenn took a seat behind her mahogany desk overflowing with paperwork and Hermione sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair in front of it. "Well…" Jenn started, "Amy and I—how did you know?"

"How could I not?" Hermione asked with an amused smirk on her face. "You two always disappear together and reappear all flushed and disheveled. Not to mention the long meaningful looks. Everyone knows. I think even Bonham knows."

"Well then."

"You're fine because you're not in the same department, inter-departmental relationships are allowed, intra are not. I double checked once I realised you two were together."

Jenn seemed to relax. "I keep telling Amy that we were allowed to be together, but she keeps insisting that we continue sneaking around. In fact, now that I think about it, I think she gets a kick out of the whole sneaking around thing."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

"Either way, having sex in the—"

"LALALALALALA!" Hermione shouted covering her ears. Jenn began to laugh. "Just because I support your relationship does not mean that I approve of the locations that you two…which brings me to my original question: Why don't you use one of your offices?"

Jenn smirked. "Well, as I was saying, Amy really likes it when I—"

"Okay!" Hermione admitted defeat: "I admit defeat! You two have fun…just you know, clean up after yourselves," she said scrunching her face in disgust, "we do work in a hospital."

"We're always very clean, Hermione! We are Healers after all," Jenn said offended.

"Sorry, I'm not trying to judge your cleanliness standards," Hermione realised once again how off topic she had become and marveled that she had had two conversations about sex in less than two hours. When had she become so bold? Maybe it was how long it had been—"So, the reason I came here," she said shaking herself from her thoughts about her pitiful sex life, "was to have you read my article for the _Prophet_ and the _Quibbler_. I would love a second opinion. It's just introducing the top ten most common injuries for Muggles and wizards to show how, despite our differences, we're all humans," she said in one breath, surprisingly nervous about what Jenn would think of the article.

"Medicine and Muggle awareness," Jenn said thoughtfully as she grabbed Hermione's unfinished article, "you're one of kind Hermione Granger."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: The Plot Thickens

Hermione's first week as a fully licenced (and under probation) Healer passed as quickly as the two that followed and was filled with new and old injuries. She met with Paul and Lisette twice more, as well as Alice and Gregory two other regular patients. She reattached the arm of a too adventurous magical mushroom forager torn off by an angry mother bear; she _obliviated_ three Muggles who had witnessed a drawn out duel between two drunken friends, she then healed the oozing wounds of said drunken friends and in turn chastised them for their stupidity; she began researching the _Cruciatus_ curse in hopes of finding a way to treat its various side effects after a quick visit from Neville and Luna; she successfully had Bill G-817-Ub, which gave pure blood men only the ability to inherit land, overturned; she mailed in her final draft of her article and was told that it would not be published for another two weeks—you know how busy this time of year was with school specials and all—; she cured an old woman's memory loss induced by a bad batch of dream tea; she rearranged her office; she bought a new pair of sneakers so that they would not squeak after every step that she made—"The only drawback to your less annoying and, although I hate to compliment you, quite nice shoes is that they no longer warn me that you are approaching and allow me enough time to avoid you," Draco commented when he saw her deep red Air Jordans, making Hermione laugh because Malfoy probably didn't realise she was wearing Muggle shoes let alone that he liked them—; she (and her team that seemed to now include Malfoy) 'saved' over two hundred Muggles; and she was no longer supervised by Amy nor Jenn, despite the fact that she was supposed to be. Yes, she did a lot in three weeks, which is why time seemed to fly by.

Another Thursday, another Miracle Squad day. Hermione woke up with a smile on her face, as she did every Thursday, and hurried out the door, excited for breakfast. On most days it was just she and Draco at _Paul's_ reading in companionable silence as Ernie often slept in too late. Sometimes Ernie joined them a few minutes before the start of shift, but usually he was MIA until lunch.

Hermione was reading _Unforgivable Curses and their affects_ by Albus Dumbledore (who knew he wrote a book, let alone several?) as she walked down the street briskly. She began to cross the street before she was pulled back harshly. She looked around angrily beginning to shout when she realised that she had been about to walk into the path of a small truck that honked its horn at her as it passed. She looked back at her saviour and saw none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Morning," she said in way of thanks, then looked both ways before returning to her book and crossing the street.

"Really Granger, do you have a death wish?"

"I'm reading, Malfoy," she said after a pause.

"And how fitting it would have been if the bookworm died because she was too busy reading a book."

Hermione smiled, but did not respond and the duo continued on to _Paul's_, Hermione trusting Draco to stop herself from seriously injuring herself. As soon as that thought crossed her mind Hermione came to a resounding halt. She wrenched her eyes up from her book and narrowed them at Malfoy who continued walking for a few seconds before he realised that she was gone.

"What's the deal Malfoy?" She demanded.

"What?" He asked turning around. He glanced over his shoulder at_ Paul's_ that was only a block away now.

"You. Why are you here? Why do you walk to work with me? Why do we eat breakfast together? Ernie isn't here forcing us to be together and we both know that you would never choose to be in my presence, Malfoy. So what gives?"

Draco looked at her for a moment. He shook his head slightly, turned around and continued on his way without another word. Hermione felt a burning in her stomach and heat on her cheeks. She had never felt bad for being so frank with Malfoy before. She closed her book and caught up with Draco's longer strides. Instead of saying anything, they continued their walk in silence. Both ordered their usual large breakfasts and sat at their table in the back corner—_when had it become_ their_ table?_

"Listen, Malfoy," Hermione began, instead of opening her book, as Draco already had.

"No, you listen, Granger," he said quietly, closing his book. "I told you that I was sorry. I told you that I am trying to be a better person. I told you that no one talks to me on my bloody floor, that I am avoided like the plague. Hell, I live in _Muggle_ London. Me! You can bet my grandfather is rolling over in his grave. What more do you want from me? All you see is the arrogant ass that I was at school. I haven't been that person for _years_. I'm _trying_ here and all you do is narrow your bea—big eyes at me like I'm the Dark Lord hiding under these white robes." He took a long gulp of his piping hot tea then set the cup down loudly (_Did he crack the saucer?_ Hermione wondered absentmindedly). Draco stood up abruptly making his wooden chair scrape against the floor. "Why do I even bother?" he muttered and strode out of the coffee shop and across the street, lighting a cigarette on his way.

Hermione watched him smoking sulkily outside of the hospital and felt that burning feeling in her stomach again. Hermione noticed that he had forgotten his book. She read the title _Magical cures to incurable curses_ by Wendel Potts. She opened it to the page he had dog-eared, chapter twelve: The _Cruciatus_ curse. Hermione closed her eyes not believing that she and Draco were both researching the same asked the cashier for some take out containers and packaged her breakfast and Draco's and headed to the third floor.

She had to ask the third floor secretary where his office was as the last time that she was on the third floor Draco had been manning the emergency potion desk at the end of the hallway (and judging by the size of the breasts of the woman there right now, Hermione bet that it was not Draco behind the desk today). Thomas gave her a suspicious look, _why was Hermione Granger, war hero, visiting Draco Malfoy, Death Eater_, but directed her none-the-less to the staff hallway, third door down. She thanked him and found herself knocking on the door briskly before she could lose her nerve.

She waited ten seconds in silence before knocking again twice, only to be interrupted by the door swinging inward just wide enough to show Draco looking indifferent.

"Yes?" He asked with his nose in the air.

"It seems that I owe you an apology. So, although it pains me to admit it, I am sorry. You're right."

"Sorry, wait, can you write that down for me and sign it so that people will believe me?" Draco interrupted.

"You're still a git though," Hermione stated flatly. "Anyway, you should really quit smoking, you could get cancer, and your office reeks of cigarettes."

"That's only because I was just smoking before you knocked."

"You were what?!"

"Smoking—"

"Indoors! In a hospital?! Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed. Draco smiled at her anger. "You really are a git. If I catch you smoking inside again I will report you to your supervisor. And Ernie will side with me on this," she threatened. "Well. Here, I brought your breakfast because it's the most important meal of the day and despite your general awfulness, you should probably eat. And here's your book," she said handing him both objects. "I'll see you in fifteen minutes for the Miracle Squad," Hermione began walking away, but turned on her heel and asked, "Why are you researching the effects of the _Cruciatus_ curse?"

Draco's spine stiffened and in way of response he said, "Thanks for breakfast." He shut his office door with a quiet click. Hermione, effectively cut off, walked away pondering this new interaction. She shook her head of it and skipped up to the fifth floor to prepare for the Miracle Squad. Her personal goal for the day was 60 patients. Even the prospect of Malfoy being there complaining about barbaric Muggle procedures couldn't bring down her good mood.

* * *

Hermione had expected the following morning's breakfast to be incredibly awkward, but the two of them went back to ignoring one another's presence. She did note, curiosity almost tugging a question from her lips again, that he was reading the same book about the _Cruciatus_ curse. Instead of asking she cracked the spine of a book that she had borrowed from the small library in the Staff Lounge, _Unfogging the mind_ by Lisa Herbert. Hermione's book focused mainly on how to restore the mind back to its original state after being cursed. It, unfortunately, did not contain any information that she could use in regards to the _Cruciatus_, stating only that "its unpredictable effects were thought to be irreversible and no research to date has proven otherwise." Hermione sighed and closed the regretfully unhelpful book between her hands. She glanced up and saw that Draco was looking at her. He quickly returned his gaze to his book when he saw that she was looking.

Hermione sat in silence for a moment until she said, "You did really well yesterday, Malfoy." When he did not respond she continued, "At the Miracle Squad. Despite your frequent remarks about how 'backwards' Muggle medicine is, you really made a difference. I saw the family of that little boy that you healed and—"

"It may have escaped your attention, but I am trying to read," he cut her off.

"It certainly didn't seem that way when you were staring at me," Hermione retorted. She thought that she saw a slight blush rise to his cheeks and his eyes flicker, but a moment later his face was stony white again.

"Don't flatter yourself, Granger. I was staring off into space. Why would I—"

"Why are you reading about the _Cruciatus_? No, why are you reading about ways to reverse its effects?" Hermione demanded, cutting him off.

"Your lack of conversational skills never ceases to amaze me. I was indeed speaking before you rudely cut—"

"Why won't you just tell me?"

"It really must be eating you away inside. What if I haven't really changed? What if, despite Harry Potter our saviour, the chosen one, the one who wouldn't bloody die, was wrong when he testified saying that I was not all that bad," he said with disdain. "What if I am trying to come up with a more advanced version of the _Cruciatus_? What if there's a way to bring back Voldemort? Or better yet, I'm reuniting the Young Death Eaters again. Is that what your too large brain is attempting to figure out, Grangie?" He said with an edge to his voice.

"I'm also researching the _Cruciatus_," she snapped. "I figured we could save each other some time and share information. But since clearly, you are still a self-serving prat, I'll just take the rest of my toast to go. Happy weekend, Malfoy," Hermione said hotly. Her chair screeched loudly against the ground as she began to flee _Paul's_. She stopped halfway out the door and marched back to the table, looking Draco in the eyes determinedly, "And don't call me 'Grangie', _Dray_. My name is Hermione Jean Granger. Any or all of those names will suffice." And with that she turned on the heel of her Jordans and walked briskly out of the coffee shop and into St Mungo's, white robes billowing behind her.

* * *

Hermione almost tripped over the _Prophet_ that was sitting outside of her office door on her way out for the evening. She picked it up and read the small note attached to it.

_Grangie,_

_It is hard for me to admit how well written this article is. See you Monday morning._

_P.S. Is number 6 a real statistic? There's no way that wizards and witches get the same colds as Muggles._

Hermione smiled despite herself. She immediately knew, despite the lack of indication, that this letter was from Malfoy. She was surprised that he would send her any form of apology, let alone read her article. She pocketed the short letter. She hadn't realised that today was the day her list of the top ten most common injuries and illnesses for humans (Muggle and wizard alike) was going to be published. Hermione read it all the way to the lift. She did not see the man standing in the corner by the lift with a small smile on his face. Perhaps because she was too engrossed in her own literary success, more likely due to the fact that he was under a disillusionment charm. Either way, Hermione continued on her way to her home a smile plastered onto her face. She couldn't wait to celebrate her article being published that night at her weekly gathering at the Leaky Cauldron with the old Hogwarts gang.

Draco, for his part, was still beating himself up. _Why is it so hard for you to just answer her questions? She's the only person who even talks to you apart from Ernie—who has been MIA recently... Is he seeing someone?_ Draco wondered as he disillusioned himself in the lift and began his walk home. He could just make out a bushy head of hair crossing the street in front of him.

Draco's flat was what Muggles called a penthouse suite; it was the top floor of his building, and it was massive. It was also lavishly decorated in neutral tones. He had a large kitchen, dining room, living room, two bathrooms, a master bedroom and en suite, a guest bedroom and a foyer. He cleaned his already spotless flat before his mother arrived for their weekly dinner. He changed into a pair of black dress pants and a tucked-in white button down shirt. He boiled the kettle and brought out his tea set that he reserved for her visits alone. Draco then summoned her house elf and asked her to prepare dinner for the two of them, pasta in vodka sauce with sparkling white wine. Nymphadora, his cat, wandered into the room. He quickly picked her up and locked her in his bedroom and cast a silencing spell: If his mother knew that he owned a cat…

He poured himself a strong cup of Earl Grey and pondered his note to Hermione as he awaited his mother. _She smiled_, he remembered, _when she read my note._ Draco was suddenly struck by the desire to make her smile again. This bizarre and extremely unwelcome thought was quickly forced to the recesses of his mind along with the disturbing fact that he found her large brown eyes so frustratingly beautf—

_Knock. Knock. Knock._ Mother was here. He met her on his balcony, the only place that one could apparate into his home, and slide open the glass door with a flick of his wand. Her long blonde hair was in an elegant French bun. She was wearing a long black dress encrusted with diamonds underneath her Sphinx fur cloak. Narcissa Malfoy really was the epitome of upper class.

"Mother," he greeted her with a quick hug.

"Draco, darling," she smiled revealing a row of perfect teeth.

"If you'll accompany me to the dining room." Draco removed her cloak and vanished it with a flick of his wand.

Draco pulled out one of his oak dining room chairs for her before seating himself across the short aged oak table. He smiled at his mother as Winky appeared with a large tray of food and began serving them.

"Thank you, Winky," Draco said as he began to tuck in.

"I really must insist that you get a haircut Draco," Narcissa said after staring at his offensively long hair for several minutes in mounting silence.

"Mother, I thought we discussed this."

"We did, and we agreed that you need a haircut!"

"You agreed. I did not. I like my hair this way."

"Really, you look so… _common_," she said her voice dripping with disdain.

"As I said, I like my hair this way."

"And, really, can't you come to the manor for dinner? Apparating onto a balcony is beneath someone of my stature. I feel as if I am sneaking into your home! The West wing is completely—"

"If visiting me is so beneath you, why do you even bother?" Draco asked, slamming down his fork.

Narcissa blinked at him in shock, "I apologise if I have offended you, dear. I just want to ensure that the Malfoy heir is behaving appropriately."

"Appropriately?"

"Yes. Your father would be disgusted with—"

"I don't bloody well care what my father thinks, thank you very much! That spineless fool is exactly where he belongs: out of my life. I am an adult, mother. I can wear my hair as I please, I can live where I want. Father is rotting away for the rest of his life for the mistakes that he made, so perhaps you should not be advising me to follow his lead." Draco ranted.

"Draco, that is no way to speak to your mother! Your father made many wrong choices, but he always presented himself to the public as a Malfoy should."

"How about we don't talk about the man who ruined both of our lives and enjoy this dinner that Winky has so kindly made for us, before I say something that I will regret."

"As you wish, dear." Narcissa contemplated her son quietly. Although she was happy the apple fell so far from the tree, it would be nice if he could at least cut his hair. The length was really quite atrocious. And when was he going to get a girlfriend?

* * *

Draco slid into the booth at the Leaky Cauldron beside Blaise and across from Pansy and Theo. Blaise was a tall and lean Moroccan man with short cropped hair best known for his mother, a serial widower . Pansy was Finnish, rather short with short black hair. She was best known for her unfortunate pug-like face. Theo, like Draco, had a pointed aristocratic face, but unlike Draco had cropped dark brown hair. Theodore Nott was best known for his for being invisible to those around him. They were some of the few Slytherins that seemed to make it through the war alive and out of prison.

The table greeted Draco warmly.

"How's your mum?" Theo asked lightly.

"As nagging as ever," Draco complained.

"Your hair is getting a bit on the long side Draco," Pansy piped up unhelpfully. "I could cut it for you." Everyone at the table laughed at this. "What? I swear I've practised since I did Theo's hair."

"I'm still recovering from that 'haircut'." Theo commented with a smile.

A server then came up and asked what they would like to drink. The first time that they had come to the Leaky Cauldron after the war they were denied service, and most times after that, until finally a nice Hufflepuff server let them in, Hannah Abbott.

"The usual?" she asked in her bubbly voice with a dazzling smile her question directed toward Theo primarily. She tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear.

Theo stared into her green eyes almost drooling. Blaise cut in in his suave voice, "Please. Thank you, Hannah." ¨

Once she walked away Pansy smacked Theo across the back of the head. "Really?"

"You're done for, mate," Draco laughed.

"Just say 'hello' to the women, Theo. Baby steps," Pansy added.

"I don't even like her!" Theo exclaimed but his glowing blush proved otherwise.

"Yeah and that beauty over at the bar doesn't have the best ass I have ever seen," Blaise commented. A young woman with long red curly hair, a short red skirt, and a mostly see-through black top was chatting with Hannah at the counter.

Just then said beauty turned around and walked over to a booth near theirs. She was Ginny Weasley.

"That's Ginny Weasley!" Pansy commented.

"So?" Blaise asked.

"So? So it's not going to happen," Pansy explained slowly and clearly as if Blaise were a first year Muggleborn looking at a wand for the first time.

"Not with that attitude," Blaise muttered under his breath.

Something dawned on Draco suddenly. They always sat in the same seats, every Friday. Potter's little gang was always a few booths over. Ginny usually went up to the bar in order to… well Draco wasn't entirely sure why Ginny went up to bar considering Hannah went right up to their table to serve them. But Blaise was always in the perfect spot to watch her. Draco looked over at his friend whose eyes were narrowed as he watched the Weaslette interact with Potter.

"Blaise, is there any particular reason that you insist on sitting on this side of the booth every time we meet?" Draco asked, knowing the answer.

Blaise tore his eyes from the disturbing sight in front of him. "What?"

"You're into the Weaselette." Draco stated.

"Who isn't? Look at that—"

"No, you're really into her."

"I'd like to shag her, who wouldn't?"

Pansy seemed to catch up with Draco's reasoning then. "Oh my God! You want to date her, don't you?!"

Theo was off in his own world trying to psych himself up for when Hannah returned.

"Could you please lower your voice?" Blaise insisted as the red head in question looked in their direction.

"For how long?" Pansy demanded.

Blaise did not answer.

"That long? I'm disappointed in myself for not noticing sooner. We are so getting you two together!" Pansy stage whispered.

"Who's we?" Draco asked.

"All of us. Just like we're getting Theo and Hannah together."

"I did not sign up for that," Draco said. "I already have to deal with Granger on a daily basis, if Blaise and the Weasel get together—"

Blaise cut in, "Her name is Ginny."

Before Draco could respond Hannah returned with four Butterbeers, four shots of Firewhiskey and two cosmopolitans (for Pansy and Blaise). Everyone looked pointedly at Theo, including Hannah—which no one noticed because they were all looking at Theo who in turn was looking at the table. Hannah began to leave saying "enjoy" when Theo, to everyone's surprise cut her off.

"Thanks, Hannah," he said breathlessly.

"You're welcome, Theo." She smiled with a slight blush rising to her round cheeks and walked away. _Poor boy doesn't realise that he doesn't have anything to be nervous about_, she thought. She then proceeded to think about how attractive she found Theo and how cute he looked in his button down long sleeve and how cute it would be on the floor of her flat.

At the booth everyone was congratulating Theo on a job well done. For his shy self, this was leaps and bounds. Draco noticed that Ginny had stood up to go to the bathroom. Blaise suddenly pushed his way out of the booth, sending Draco flying into Hermione who was walking back to her table from the loo as well.

"Sorry mate," Blaise called over his shoulder as he walked briskly to the loo. "Sorry Hermione!"

Draco was holding Hermione by the shoulders (which might I add were bare because she was wearing this unnecessarily tight purple dress thing—_Merlin why did Granger even own clothes like that?_) to stop her from falling over. They were uncomfortably close, their chests almost touching. Draco took a step back and dropped his hands. They tingled where he had touched her bare skin.

"Sorry!"

"Er—that's…uhh… I think it was Blaise's fault anyway," Hermione said awkwardly. She looked over at Pansy and Theo who both gave her small smiles. Hermione was never a large fan of Pansy because she, like Malfoy, was very obnoxious and rude in school. Theo on the other hand was a diligent student, so she had no qualms against him. "Pansy. Theo. How-how are you?" she asked fidgeting with her ultra-tight dress as Draco sat back down and tried to not look at her smooth legs or small chest that her dress was currently throwing in his face.

Pansy raised an eyebrow, but responded nonetheless, "I'm well."

"Can't complain too much," Theo added.

"Are you still in the Magical Law Department?" Hermione asked Theo while chanting in her head _turn over a new leaf, turn over a new leaf_.

"Yeah. I see one or two of those bills that you keep having reformed," Theo joked. "You might as well work at the Ministry, you get more done than any of our actual employees."

"Except maybe you," Pansy added. "Our Theo just got promoted. He's Senior Secretary to the head of the department," she bragged. Hermione was unsure if she was trying to annoy her or was just proud of her friend. She preferred to think the latter.

"That's amazing! Congratulations Theo," Hermione said sincerely. "Enjoy your evening. Oh, and Malfoy, thanks for the note. But you're not forgiven." Hermione walked away in her little black flats with her dress swaying from side to side with each step, proud that she got the last word. It took every ounce of Draco's willpower to not watch her as she walked away. _Why does she own that distracting dress?_

"What was that about?" Harry asked once she had rejoined the table.

"Did Malfoy trip you?" Ron interrogated Hermione while casting dirty looks Draco's way.

"No, Blaise pushed him into me by accident," Hermione said, quelling Ron's bloodlust. "Oh, and Theo's been promoted at the Ministry. I'm glad; he always supports my bill reforms."

"The tall gangly bloke?" Ron asked craning his neck to try and get a glimpse of him despite the fact that his back was to them.

"Yeah, his father was a Death Eater, but Theo ran with his mum during the war," said Harry.

"He's the quiet one," George added in. "You probably don't remember him, makes it his personal business to be ignored. Once Freddy and I ran into him in a secret passageway, one that's not even on the map. To this day I do not know how he found his way in, we only stumbled in by accident when being chased by Filch." Surprisingly, George's tone was light when he spoke about Fred. "Good for him getting a promotion, someone that clever deserves it."

"Who's got a promotion?" asked Hannah who had just arrived with another round of Butterbeers. She worked here to help out Tom, who was apparently a distant cousin of hers, but after the war some of the only family that she had left.

"Theodore Nott," clarified Hermione.

Hannah smiled broadly at this news: this was her chance to start a conversation with him! "Good for him." Hannah took their empties and headed into the recycling room which happened to be the route to the bathroom. What she saw on her way was somewhat of a surprise, but in truth was something that she had suspected for a good while now.

When Ginny had gone to the bathroom she was already quite tipsy and had been giving Blaise 'the eyes' for some time now. However, she had not expected him to follow her into the hallway leading there. When she heard his throat clear behind her she looked round.

"I'm Blaise," he said in a voice that seemed to slide across her body and leave goose pimples (I mean she was also wearing a short skirt and a flimsy top and it was the end of September, so goose pimples would be entirely justified, but you know, romance).

"I know."

He took a step closer to her. "And you're Ginevra Weasley."

"Ginny," she corrected holding out her hand. Blaise took it and kissed the back of it. He took another step closer, still holding her hand and gently caressing it with her thumb. Ginny's heart was racing and her face was flushed. "You can call me Ginny," she repeated breathlessly.

"Ginny…" Blaise said moving himself so that they were only a foot apart. Ginny backed up against the wall and Blaise leaned one hand against it beside her head. "It's a pleasure to meet you, officially." Ginny nodded in response, her red curls bouncing. "But of course, I've been admiring you from a far for quite some time now," Blaise confessed in that seductive voice of his. Ginny noted absentmindedly that he was wearing a white button down shirt that was tight enough to show how muscular he was. Her eyes darted to his lips as he continued to speak, actually he seemed to have been speaking this whole time but she was distracted by his body being so close to hers. And his warm eyes, and those lips that were just begging…

"…So what do you say?" Blaise asked, his head inches away from hers.

Ginny nodded weakly as Blaise began to close the gap between their lips. She could feel his warm breath on her face. She managed to respond, "Uh-huh" before Blaise pulled back abruptly.

"So I'll see you tomorrow night then," he confirmed with a smirk. "Does seven sound good? Where can I pick you up?"

"I—seven? What?" Ginny asked trying to clear her foggy mind.

Blaise moved in closer to her again and planted a soft kiss on her neck. "For our date." Blaise kissed her on the other side of her neck slowly kissing his way to her ear.

"D-date?"

"Tomorrow," he lightly nipped her earlobe, "At seven." Blaise moved to her jaw and planted several kisses there.

"Oh." Ginny's arms had somehow wrapped themselves around Blaise's broad shoulders.

"Where can I pick you up?" Blaise asked again after kissing the side of her mouth and pressing his body against hers so that she was fully pushed against the wall.

"Anywhere," Ginny said breathlessly. She then grabbed Blaise's face and crashed her lips heatedly onto his. _Finally_, Ginny thought_, after months of trying to get his attention. And, Merlin he's a good kisser._ Blaise kissed her back passionately and Ginny wrapped her legs around his waist. _And he's strong_, Ginny thought as he supported her. She had just begun to move her waist against his when a loud throat being cleared wrenched the two apart. Ginny feared that Ron or George had just walked in on them while Blaise was dreading Pansy's smug face. Instead the would-be couple were greeted by Hannah's knowing grin.

"I'm more than glad that the two of you _finally_ realised the extremely potent and obvious sexual tension that has been floating around this bar for the past few months. But I must suggest that you get a room. Also I don't think your brothers would love to see you two playing Dementor's kiss in the back room, Ginny." Hannah laughed, then continued into the employee only section of the bar.

Ginny was still pressed against the wall. Blaise was a few feet away from her. They were both breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm usually more of a gentleman," Blaise apologised sincerely. His voice was deliciously husky.

"Oh there's no need to apologise," Ginny said walking over to him and pushing him against the hallway wall. "Trust me when I say that I thoroughly enjoyed that." Ginny wrapped her hands around his neck.

Blaise smiled down at her significantly smaller frame. "You're pretty devious for a Gryffindor."

"You can meet me outside of the coffee shop across from the Ministry of Magic. Take me somewhere Muggle. If I don't like it, this will be the first and last date."

"Muggle London?"

"Prove to me that you're not just another Slytherin, Zabini. Oh, and this remains a secret until I say so." Ginny began to saunter away swaying her hips in what she hoped was a seductive manner. Thank Merlin's saggy left ball for her Gryffindor courage. That snog was more than worth it. She was abruptly pulled back into Blaise's arms where he kissed her quickly but thoroughly. Ginny groaned happily.

"I just needed one more to tide me over until tomorrow night," he whispered into her ear. He then walked down the hallway and toward his booth full of friends who had just begun to wonder where he had gotten to. Ginny stared at his firm ass until he disappeared around the hallway corner. She then locked herself in a stall in the women's loo and cast a glamour so that she didn't look as flushed as she was. She smoothed down her curls so that they were perfect again and she righted her thin shirt, which seemed to have crawled up her stomach a bit.

When she returned to her friends, feeling Blaise's heated eyes the whole walk back to the table, she explained away her long absence to getting her period to which all the men at the table accepted without question. Hermione on the other hand eyed her suspiciously; Ginny had complained about bad cramps a week and a half ago. She glanced over at the Slytherin table and her eyes landed on Blaise who seemed to be devouring Ginny from afar. Hermione turned to Ginny to laugh about it, when she realised that her friend was giving Blaise the same look. Hermione frowned but drank a gulp of her Butterbeer instead of questioning it; tonight was her night off after a long week and she was going to enjoy it!

* * *

Theo approached the bar to pay the bill as he usually did every Friday, usually this was done in silence though. Tonight, probably due to the larger than usual amount of alcohol that he had consumed, he spoke.

"Hi Hannah."

"Theo. Are you ready to pay the bill?" she asked with her trademark smile in place.

"Yes, thank you." And Theo was very proud of himself for making it this far in the conversation. He was completely thrown for a loop when Hannah kept speaking to him as she handed him the bill and he began counting coins.

"I heard that you are being promoted at the Ministry."

_She knows I work at the Ministry?_

"That's very impressive for someone who's been there for such a short time. Especially in the Magical Law department, no one ever retires from there so being promoted is nigh impossible!"

_She seems to know a lot about the Magical Law department._ He thought as he handed her the coins. "Yeah, it's almost as if someone has to die for me to get a job." Theo winced at his attempt at a joke.

"Well luckily it didn't come to that, we wouldn't want to see your gorgeous face in Azkaban, would we?" Hannah said with a wink. She accepted the coins but returned his all too generous tip stating, "I should be the one tipping you, handsome." Then she turned around and disappeared into the backroom.

Theo almost began to hyperventilate. _She called me handsome and gorgeous._

When he did not return to the booth for a solid minute Pansy walked over to him and brought him back down to earth.

"She called me handsome," Theo said dubiously.

Pansy's jaw dropped.

Little did they know that Hannah was hyperventilating in the back room. _I can't believe I called him handsome! Was that too forward? What if he has a girlfriend? He doesn't. But what if he does? I bet he only dates brunettes. Maybe he hates me that's why he never speaks to me._ Her thoughts were interrupted by Pansy walking into the backroom.

"He thinks you're smart and beautiful, and all that other romantic shit. Now can the two of you act like adults instead of twelve year olds?"

Pansy left Hannah smiling in the kitchen only to walk in on what could progress into a full blown fight between Draco, Weasley and Hermione. Hermione seemed to be staggering slightly. Ron was very red in the face and Draco had his usual cold mask in place. Potter walked up at that moment.

"What are you three fighting about?"

"Hermione's had too much to drink. She shouldn't apparate home alone," Ron explained.

"And you should not be the one to take her, you've had just as much as her," Draco said snidely.

"Listen Hermione, you can spend the night at the Joke Shop. I'm sure we can find a bed somewhere," Ron tried to reason with her.

"Honestly. I'm fine!" Hermione tried to defend herself, but seemed to trip over something on the ground and was suddenly in someone's very warm arms.

"I'm not going to kill her. We walk to work together every morning, (Pansy filed that little tidbit of information away for later) if I wanted to kill her, that would be the perfect time." Draco lightly pushed Hermione back to her feet, but kept a hand on the small of her back so that she didn't fall again.

This whole situation was very amusing to Pansy. Hermione's ex-boyfriend (and current friend), _how did that work_, fighting with Draco Malfoy to get her home safely because she was too drunk, yet Weasley and Potter were not standing too steadily on their feet either.

"Hermione, what do you want to do?" Pansy asked, since she seemed to be the only level headed person, aside from Draco, in the entire building.

Hermione looked over at Pansy confused. "I want…sleep…my bed. It's my night off," she said, not coherently.

"Perfect. Who knows where Hermione's apparition point is?" Pansy questioned again. The two Gryffindors scratched their heads. Draco just smirked. "No one?"

"I do," Draco finally said smugly.

"Well there you go. Draco's going to take you home, is that alright Gr—Hermione?" Pansy asked clearly and slowly.

Hermione giggled. "He stalks me."

"What?!" Ron and Harry both shouted.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I do not stalk her. It's a joke that we have."

"Yeah right! You and Hermione do not joke together." Harry said.

"We live in the same area. I see her a lot. The end. Now can I take her home before she passes out?"

Harry approached Hermione and lightly grabbed her by the shoulders. "Does he stalk you, Hermione?"

Hermione giggled again. "No…" Harry dropped his hands in relief. "But he—_hiccup_—stares a lot."

Pansy looked at Draco incredulously. She noticed a blush rising to his cheeks! _The plot thickens._

"There you have it; I am not a stalker. Perfect. Good night everyone," Draco said quickly. He pulled Hermione into his side so that he could support her and _apparated_ away before anyone could comment on Hermione's inappropriate knowledge of how often he watched her read, or eat, or…_He did not stare!_

The silence that followed their departure lasted about two seconds before Harry and Ron rounded on Pansy, Theo and Blaise were long departed, demanding that she track Malfoy down and find their friend. Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Draco won't hurt her. Besides, if he does you two have free reign to do whatever you want to him." Pansy walked back to the booth and grabbed her coat. "Now go stumble through Diagon Alley to your little joke shop," she said before vanishing with a _pop_.

Meanwhile Draco and Hermione appeared on her balcony. Hermione, thanks to muscle memory, waved her wand in an intricate pattern and her glass doors slid open. Hermione stumbled into a side table and knocked over a flower vase. She ignored it and tromped toward what must have been her bedroom. Draco fixed the vase with a flick of his wand and put it back where it belonged. He followed her into her bedroom only to yelp and turn around; she was only in her underclothes, her very revealing, very lacy, underclothes.

"Merlin, Granger! Warn me next time, will you?"

Hermione ignored him and collapsed onto her bed and rolled herself under the covers. "Thanks for bringing me home, Draco."

Draco turned around at the sound of his name. She looked so ador—silly surrounded by her giant comforter, only her head poking out of the covers. A large orange cat appeared from nowhere and jumped onto the bed. It glared at Draco before curling up into a ball beside Hermione.

"You're welcome," Draco said quietly. She closed her eyes. "How do I reset your protection spells?" he asked.

"Automatic… 'Night." Hermione then proceeded to fall asleep.

"Goodnight…Hermione." Draco cast a recovery position charm on Hermione before walking back out onto her balcony. He tried to re-enter, just to make sure that she was in fact still protected, and was unable. "Smart witch."

Draco _apparated _home—to the neighbouring building. He looked back down at Hermione's balcony. _If she finds out where I live, she really will think that I'm a stalker_. He let himself into his flat and scratched Nymph behind the ears. He peeled off his clothes and flopped into bed. _She's going to wonder how I know which flat is hers let alone where her apparition spot is. She is going to wonder why I fought against Weasley to take her home. _Pansy_ is going to wonder…Oh god. And no one would believe that I was just being nice._ Draco sighed regretting his decision to apologise to Granger. Life was so much better before. Nymph, his grey and black spotted Egyptian Mau cat, jumped onto his bed and laid at the top of his head, as usual. She purred loudly, lulling Draco into a sleep punctured with images of Hermione Granger in lacy underwear.

Yes things did just get a little more interesting.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone for reading so far!

I'm almost done the story and should be updating fairly frequently.

I would just like to remind everyone that this story is rated M for a reason, which will shortly become evident (but I'm not saying exactly when, so this is your early warning).


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** You may have noticed that I updated the story a lot today, I just fixed a few formatting errors in the first five chapters (i.e. adding in breaks between scene transitions because this website likes to delete my handy little asterisks). Thanks to **Honoria Granger** for pointing this out. Hopefully I've actually fixed it this time. Sorry for any confusion!

* * *

Chapter Six: The Wrath of Bonham

Hermione awoke the next morning, or rather early afternoon, with a fuzzy mind. She winced as she pulled herself into an upright position. It wasn't until she was out of the shower and getting dressed that she noticed her purple dress on the ground in the middle of her bedroom that she remembered the finer details of the proceeding night.

She had had a lot to drink. Perhaps it was because she had a long tiring week, perhaps it was because she wanted to be able to ignore Ron talking about the fact that he was seeing Lavender Brown again (even though she and Ron had not been a couple for two years, Hermione had been single since their break whereas Ron had dated several witches and she felt a little lonely) or perhaps she just hadn't been thoroughly sloshed in a long time. No matter the reason, Hermione could not believe that it ended with her being escorted home by Draco-I-live-frustratingly-close-to-you Malfoy. She blushed fiercely as she looked at the dress on the floor: he had seen her practically naked. Hermione groaned and fell back onto her bed. She couldn't remember if he had actually seen her or not, but she knew that she had stripped down without a second thought. _Now he's going to think that I'm a slag_. Then Hermione remembered that she didn't care what Draco thought about her.

_How did he know where to apparate. I don't remember telling him it was onto my balcony. And for that matter he's never seen my apartment, so how could he know where to go? _Hermione started to seriously reconsider the idea that he was stalking her.

Later, as she was leaving to visit her parents, she noticed that he had fixed her vase that she had broken last night. Hermione frowned down at it. _Why was he being so nice?_ At that moment her home phone rang and she was bombarded by questions from Ron and Harry. The only way that they would let her off the phone was when she reminded them that her parents were expecting her a few hours ago.

Hermione grabbed Crookshanks and she stepped onto her balcony to _apparate_ the two of them to an alleyway near her parents' house. Just before she disappeared into the uncomfortable void she got a faint whiff of cigarette smoke and wrinkled her nose in disgust. If she had rested one more moment she would have noticed Draco on his balcony reading a book and smoking a cigarette. However, she was already gone.

* * *

Hermione wished Paul a good day and walked back to her office. She was surprised to see Bonham standing there, looking more grey than usual. Bonham pushed his glasses up his bulbous nose and smiled.

"Healer Granger. I was hoping to catch you before you went on lunch. May I come in?" he asked in his nasally voice.

"Of course, sir." Hermione unwarded her door and gestured him inside.

Bonham sat down in one of her less than comfortable chairs—she was considering stealing one of the stolen Hogwarts armchairs from the Staff Lounge—and wasted no time in destroying her life. "Healer Granger, it has come to my attention that you are treating patients unsupervised by your mentors, Healers Boyd and Adams." Hermione's heart sank. "As you know, you are under a three month probationary period during which you must be supervised during all procedures." Bonham pushed up his glasses and gave her a stern look. "Of all people I did not expect you to be the one to break the rules. That being said, I am removing you from all procedures for the next three weeks, seeing as you have been practising without supervision for three weeks." Hermione gasped.

"But sir—"

"It has also come to my attention of Healer Gordon, the supervisor on the third floor, that Healer Malfoy has been performing procedures without supervision as well. The two of you will be working on a research project for the next three weeks."

"Is there any way—"

"Please Miss Granger, I am being generous here. Yourself and Mister Malfoy can chose whatever topic related to medicine that you would like. Healer Gordon wanted the two of you to be on greeting duty on the main floor." Hermione shuddered imagining the welcome witch. "So consider yourself lucky."

Hermione's eye twitched, but she thanked him anyway. "What will be happening to Healers Boyd and Adams, sir?"

"They both have a three day suspension, unless there is of course an emergency. The same goes for you, because despite your disregard for the rules you still are one of our best Healers."

"Thank you, sir. Am I still able to run the Miracle Squad?" Hermione asked with a tremble in her voice. _If he says no…_

"After much deliberation we decided that indeed you can, since it is off of St Mungo's property. You may also continue to write your monthly column for the _Prophet_ and the _Quibbler_."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, sir. It was never my intention to break the rules—"

"Yes, yes. Indeed. Now, please go meet with Healer Malfoy on the third floor, he is in his office. I expect the two of you to have a research proposal prepared for myself and Healer Gordon by the end of the day." Bonham stood up with great effort and tromped out of the room saying over his shoulder: "I'll see you at six Miss Granger."

Hermione sat glued to her chair for the next ten minutes trembling slightly. A few tears rolled down her cheeks but she wiped them away resolutely. _Was I just demoted? How did Bonham find out? Amy and Jenn are going to be so upset. But they only had three days. I have three weeks! How is that fair? Well we are short staffed, but still! And they're pairing me with Malfoy?_ Hermione exhaled loudly. She took ten deep breaths trying to calm herself. After her tenth breath she stood up despondently and walked slowly to the lift.

The infuriatingly happy elevator music made her want to break something. It would seem that her calm was already gone again. She marched to Malfoy's office door just as another Healer emerged from it. She was tall and thin and had very short blonde hair. Hermione also noticed that her nails resembled talons they were so long, except that they were painted an obnoxious pink. From the purple band on the sleeve of her Healer robes that indicated that she was a supervisor, Hermione assumed she was Healer Gordon.

"Hello," Hermione said somewhat succeeding in keeping the anger out of her voice.

"Healer Granger," Healer Gordon said in way of response and walked down the hallway to what Hermione assumed was her office.

_She's not very nice_.

Hermione knocked on Draco's slightly ajar door and opened it without waiting for a response. His office was slightly larger than hers, she remarked indignantly. The walls were the stark white that hers were before she altered them and bare as a baby's backside. Hermione noted that all he had was a standard issue wood desk and two chairs. He had a few papers on his desk and an expensive looking inkpot and red/gold feather plume quill. Nothing else. And his office smelled vaguely of cigarettes. She closed the door behind her and sat down across from him.

"Please, make yourself at home," Draco said sarcastically.

"Can you believe this?" Hermione demanded looking him in the eyes.

"What I find hard to believe is that you are in the same situation that I am. Looks like little miss perfect isn't all that she's cracked up to be."

"My mentors refuse to supervise me because I do not need supervision. I am a fully capable Healer thank you very much," Hermione threw right back at him.

"Is that so? Bonham must not think that seeing as you're sitting in my office looking like someone just stole your ice cream. Is ickle Grangie not used to losing?"

"And you're here, I'd wager, because you thought you were too good to need a mentor."

"I'm here because I'm Draco Malfoy and Malfoy is no longer a respected name," he said darkly.

"Gee, I wonder why, seeing as you're such a spot of sunshine," she snarled.

"Why are you always so quick to accuse me? Did you ever think that, like you, my mentor did not feel that I needed to be mentored?"

Hermione scoffed, "Yeah, right."

"Or that maybe he refused to work with me. So I was forced to do everything alone and that he was the one who spoke to Gordon and made it seem like I was the one refusing to work with him. And that Gordon, who is a bloody muggleborn, just like you, can only see my role in the war and my last name. And she was more than happy to suspend me, indeed she has been looking forward to it since I was accepted into the Healer training program here." Draco paused. Throughout his rant he had been looking at his desk, his hands clenched. He raised his eyes to Hermione's and added, "Or maybe you're right. Maybe I am too good for my mentor Healer."

Hermione was silent for a moment. Recently he had a way of rendering her silent after his little confessions. She sighed. "Is that really what happened?" Draco didn't respond and sullenly looked down at his desk again. "Listen, Draco," he looked up then, "I'm sorry. I'm upset, just like you. I also just got demoted. And this is going to sound awful, but you're right; I'm Hermione Granger and I'm not used to losing."

"But I am," Draco said resignedly.

"But you are… And we have to work together somehow for the next three weeks. So I think we should call a truce."

"A truce?" he scoffed.

"Well yeah…"

"I've already apologised to you. I've been nothing but cordial for weeks now. I'm not the one that needs to stop fighting here."

Hermione was taken aback again. "I suppose you're right," she admitted after a moment of reflection. "Well. For the time being, I shall try to accept your apology. But apology or not, you need to stop being _such a prat_!"

Draco didn't respond at first, but then he said with the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips, "I haven't the foggiest as to what you mean, _Grangie_."

Hermione huffed. "Okay, so we'll both work on that."

"Work on what? I'm the definition of a perfect gentleman."

This made Hermione laugh hysterically for an unnecessarily long time. When she finally came down she was wiping tears from her eyes. "I needed that, thanks Malfoy."

Draco frowned. "I have been a gentleman. I made sure that you got home fine on Friday night." The image of her in her unreasonably sexy underwear suddenly invaded his mind and his eyes glazed over for a moment.

"I meant to thank you for that," Hermione said sincerely. However, a faint blush began to rise to her cheeks as she remembered that he might have seen her somewhat, okay mostly, naked. She was unsure whether or not to bring it up, but decided against it.

"And I didn't even look when you tried to strip in front of me," Draco added with a smirk.

Hermione covered her face in horror. "I thought I dreamt that." Her voice was muffled by her hands.

"Are you saying that you dream of me, Grangie?" Draco was able to see the blush at the roots of her hair despite the fact that Hermione was still covering her face. "In these dreams are you usually half dressed?" He teased further.

Hermione suddenly wrenched her hands from her face. "How did you know where my apparition point was? You've never been to my flat. You don't know what floor I live on. In fact, I could not even have an apparition point!"

It was suddenly Draco's turn to feel uncomfortable, which he did not like one bit. He kept his face a stony mask.

"Answer me, Malfoy!"

"Bossy, bossy. You know, if we're going to work together—"

"How do you know!" She shouted and grabbed his expensive quill. Despite how delectable it felt in her hands she was willing to destroy it for answers.

"Okay, okay," he placated her. "Just leave that quill alone. It was a gift." Hermione unsheathed her wand and pointed it at the quill. "I admit it," he continued, "I know where you live."

"I know you know where I live. _How_ do you know where I live?" she demanded.

"I live nearby?" Draco hazarded.

"Tell me something I don't know or the quill gets it!" Draco looked very worried about this fact, which made Hermione wonder who gifted it to him.

"I live in the building beside yours. I have the penthouse. I can see you apparate when I am on my balcony having a smoke," he said quickly. "So really it's Mack's fault for introducing me to cigarettes. You can thank him for me getting you home safe. You can also tear him apart for giving me the key to knowing where you live. Now please, the quill." Draco stretched out his hand but Hermione pulled the quill further back.

"Before I give this back to you answer me this: Did I actually strip in front of you?" Hermione was blushing profusely again.

Draco smiled, "No Granger. It was too dark for me to see anything," he lied.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Either way, you never tell anyone about this. Ever. Do we have a deal?" She asked with the quill still being held hostage.

"Deal. The quill, please."

Hermione handed it to him. "Who is it from?" she asked as he slid it into the top drawer of his desk, locking it with a flick of his wand.

"Someone important. Now, what shall we research?"

"I actually have a few ideas—" Hermione started eagerly, forgetting her curiosity about his mysterious quill.

"Of course you do."

"Well I'm not hearing anything helpful coming from you, Malfoy."

"Please, continue."

"The _Cruciatus_."

"It does seem like the obvious choice given that we are both researching its effects in our spare time. But as we already established," he added sarcastically, "for vastly different reasons."

"Okay. I'm sorry. You're not trying to develop a new torture curse. Can we please move past that?"

"As the lady wishes," he said pompously.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So we research the effects of the curse in the hopes of finding a spell—"

"Or potion, seeing as that is my area of expertise," Draco added.

"Or potion," Hermione amended, "that can reverse or reduce the effects. My interest is particularly in memory loss and changes in cognitive functioning which of course includes insanity."

"Are you doing this for the Longbottoms?" Draco questioned.

"In part, yes. But I'm doing it for everyone who was affected by the war." _Including myself_. "Why are you so interested?"

"I'm trying to atone for my past, is that not enough?"

"It's plenty. Back to my—our proposal; We research using books, but also through consultation with various patients. We try and develop a class system for people who have been subjected to the curse. We can try and see if there are any more concrete patterns of the side effects."

"So that we can see if we can make a cure. Or more likely medicine to render the effects less powerful. Should we start with older or newer victims? Newer ones might be easier to heal because the curse has not had as much time to set in."

"There was that report about Travers—"

"Caught early last week torturing a Muggle—"

"Who was brought to a Muggle mental health institution—"

"But how does the spell change from Muggle to witch or wizard?"

"Perhaps it doesn't…" Hermione pondered.

"Or perhaps it does. This is not a blood supremacy thing Granger, but it isn't so far-fetched to say that our magic helps to shield us from the curse, or that we have a better chance of recovering from its effects."

"Fair point. So we start with Travers and the Muggle. I can do how the curse affects Muggles and you can research wizards. When we find cases to study we will go on them together in case any of our research can help the other. What books have you already looked through so far?"

"Only two and both were useless. You?"

"None that were helpful."

"Bugger."

"It's also important to interview the people who cast the curse, their intentions and their relationship to the victims."

"I have a feeling we might be headed to Azkaban more than once," Draco said sounding less than thrilled.

"We'll probably need disguises; no one will answer a blood traitor and a Mudblood." Hermione said.

"Don't call yourself that," Draco said sharply.

Hermione was going to say, 'and why not, you call me that all the time,' but after once again chanting _turn over a new leaf_, she apologised, "Sorry. I don't know why I said that. Those people always bring out the worst in me."

Draco nodded, "I know the feeling."

"I think that this is the longest conversation that we have had without one of us yelling at the other," Hermione added after a moment of thoughtful silence. "You know I'm kind of glad that we're doing this. I've wanted to put all of my time and effort into this research but can't because of my job. But now it is my job. And think about it Draco, what if we find something?" Her eyes were sparkling. Draco had trouble looking away. "What if we actually find a cure?"

"Well we've got three weeks, so we should probably start looking."

"Were you being serious about your mentor refusing to work with you?"

"Your finesse at smoothly changing topics is unmatched."

"Seriously, were you?"

Draco let out a tired sighed. "Why?"

"That's workplace discrimination, Draco. I passed a bill that ensures that _no one_ could be discriminated based on their blood status, which includes purebloods."

Draco remarked again that she was using his given name as if it was something that she called him every day. He liked it more than he would care to admit. "Well most people don't want to defend a Death Eater."

"A former Death Eater," Hermione corrected. "I'm bringing this up at our meeting tonight. I am not afraid to take action. Why have you not talked about this to Theo? He can help you."

"Because Granger, that's just the way it is for us now."

"'For us'? Meaning that all of your pureblood friends are facing the same thing? Even Theo? That's insane! He works for the Ministry! Besides, the only purebloods around are ones that have been proven innocent. So it doesn't make sense that you should have to pay for other people's mistakes."

Draco rolled his eyes, "You're so naïve to think that people will ever change their attitudes toward us. At least I was accepted into the program. At least my mentor didn't fail me, even if he threatened to enough times."

Hermione had fire in her eyes. "This is so unjust."

"Granger, please don't make me one of your projects…"

"Don't you 'Granger' me! How are we any better than racist purebloods if we are equally discriminating toward one blood status?" she demanded. "No. I am going to fix this. Who is your mentor? Connolly?"

"I'm not answering that."

"Draco Malfoy, you deserve the right to learn. You deserve the right to go to work and feel welcomed. You deserve the right to prove that you're more than your blood status and your family name," she said passionately. "Now tell me or I will find out on my own with my excellent research skills," she threatened.

Draco sighed. "It's Connolly, curse your good memory," he muttered.

"Don't you worry. I will get the justice that you deserve."

Draco had the distinct feeling that this was not going to end well.

* * *

"So what do you think?" Hermione asked Healers Bonham and Gordon.

They were sitting in Healer Bonham's office, which apparently was larger than Healer Gordon's. _I bet that drives Gordon nutters_, Draco thought smugly.

"I am quite impressed," Bonham said. "Although, you are nothing but impressive Healer Granger."

"Yes, well done Miss Granger," Gordon added crisply. "I can tell that you've put a lot of thought into this."

"Thank you," Hermione beamed. "Although, Draco helped just as much. In fact the topic was entirely his idea," she lied.

_Why is she lying for me?_

"Well, it is a great idea my boy," Bonham added after glancing Draco's way.

Gordon on the other hand shot him a look then looked back at Hermione oddly. "Hmm."

"I must insist that you thank Draco, Healer Gordon, without him I fear we would have never agreed on anything. His idea was really ingenious. He's atoning for his past, despite being proved _innocent_, by helping to change the future of so many who were harmed by dark forces."

Draco stared at Hermione, his mouth open. _What are you doing, Granger?_

"It would certainly seem that way," Gordon said evenly. She said, with strain evident in her voice, "thank you for your dedication to this project, despite the fact that you were demoted."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "About that—"

"Thank you for giving me a second chance Healer Gordon," Draco cut her off. He glanced at Hermione and shook his head imperceptibly.

Unfortunately for Draco, Hermione was not used to such subtle body language and plowed ahead anyway. "Draco has made me aware of the fact that he is being discriminated against on his floor because of his heritage and his blood status. In particular by his mentor, Healer Connolly."

"Granger—" Draco pleaded.

"No Draco, this is important," she dismissed him easily. "I would kindly like to remind you of Bill S334-b1 that was passed three years ago that states that _no one_ can be discriminated based on blood status. This includes purebloods."

"Perhaps Malfoy was not being discriminated based on his blood status, but his abilities as a potions master," Healer Gordon suggested to Bonham who seemed quite perturbed by Hermione's proclamation.

"As I know _Healer_ Malfoy from school, I can attest to his superior potion making skills. Just the other day I received some of the best healing potion from him I have even laid my eyes on. The patient who used it said that there were absolutely no adverse side effects. And as we all know most pain potions leave a rash on the arms and legs. Even Dumbledore's pain potions gave a small rash which I know because I was one of the late headmaster's personal friends." _She is really laying it on thick_, Draco thought. "Furthermore," Hermione continued, "Healer Malfoy has been nothing but cordial to all of St Mungo's staff since day one of his Healer Training." Healer Gordon's mouth was agape. "If we sink to the level of bigotry that was formerly held by the vast majority of our society then we are no better than the people that we have put in Azkaban. So I do hope that once our suspension is over Healer Connolly will be more receptive to Healer Malfoy. On the off chance that he is not, I will not hesitate to call in my connections at the Ministry and have him fired. Because as you may or may not know, I helped defeat Voldemort, I am Harry Potter's best friend and I am personally invited to the Minister for Magic's birthday party every year, and the press love me." Hermione paused long enough to smile triumphantly. "I assume that you have approved our research proposal," she changed the topic smoothly. "We'll send you weekly written updates. Have a lovely evening Healer Bonham, Gordon." Hermione stood and grabbed Draco, who was sitting dumbstruck in his chair, and marched out of the office her head held high.

Draco was standing in her very small office before he was capable of forming a sentence. "What was that?"

"That was me, well, I suppose us, winning," Hermione smiled as she began to pack her beaded bag full of the pile of books on her desk.

Draco advanced toward her, sounding a lot more angry than he should have, in Hermione's opinion. "You have no idea what you've done Granger."

Hermione didn't pause in her attempts to shove a particularly large tome into her tiny bag, "I believe that the only words that I should be hearing right now are 'Thank you'."

"For what? Making Gordon hate me even more than she already does? You're not getting a thank you for that!" Draco was now only a foot away from Hermione who had dropped her bag with an audible_ clunk_ in anger.

"Excuse me?"

"You're not my protector, Granger. I was doing fine before you arrived."

"No, you weren't!" She put her hands on her waist.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"She's a discriminatory bitch. And I just took her down a few levels!"

"She's my boss!" Draco shouted.

Somehow Hermione's back was pressed against the wall and Draco was so close she could feel his breath on her face. And for some reason all she could think about was how much she wanted him even closer. _It is really boiling in here_. "She's breaking the law," Hermione finally added once she realised that she had been staring at his lips. Neither of them noticed that her walls were a pulsing blue that seemed to be matching her erratic heartbeat.

"You think that by interfering that you've helped, but you—"

"Thank me or get out!" Hermione shouted right back. For some reason her hands were on his shoulders. _To push him away from me_, she reasoned. Except that she seemed to be pulling him in closer.

Draco did not respond, his chest heaving. Hermione stared up into his eyes as his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against him. "It was a full moon on Friday night," He finally said.

"What?" Hermione was having a hard time following this conversation. Her hands had wrapped themselves around his neck of their free will.

"So…" he murmured into her ear breathing hotly on her neck. Hermione was flushed head to toe, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. "I like your choice in undergarments," he continued in his husky voice with a wicked smirk on his face. Hermione ought to have yelled at him then, but she couldn't bring herself to push him away and kept staring at his lips. He looked down at hers twice before he tilted his head and moved in to—

_Knock knock!_

Draco jumped away from Hermione as if slapped across the face. The walls abruptly changed to a light beige. She stayed pressed against the wall unsure of what had just happened. Her face was flushed and she was breathing heavily.

Draco cursed. He straightened his clothes and muttered, "Thank you," before wrenching open the door and pushing his way past Amy and Jenn who were just about to knock again. He lit up a cigarette as he walked toward the lift.

"You can't smoke in here, Malfoy. It's a hospital!" Amy called after him. He ignored her.

Hermione stared at them wide eyed mentally trying to dissipate her blush and slow down her breathing.

"What was that all about?" Amy asked as she walked into Hermione's office.

Hermione cleared her throat. "I—It's Malfoy. What is it ever about with him?" she said in what she hoped was an innocent tone.

"I thought you said that he was nicer these days," Jenn commented.

"I—He's unpredictable. You know, the smallest thing can set him off."

"Like someone interrupting him when he's in the middle of doing something?" Jenn asked with a suggestive eyebrow raised.

Hermione didn't like where this was going. "Why are you two here? To rub it in my face that I was demoted today?" She asked, suddenly angry.

"Hermione, you know that it was never our intention—"

"To hell with your 'intentions'! Because you two would rather sneak off to some random cleaning closet than mentor me I now have to work with Malfoy for three weeks! I've been demoted! _Me_!"

"Hermione we're so sorry!" Amy was on the verge of tears. "We just thought that you were more than capable and having us there was more a hindrance than a help."

"And I really did learn how to knit," Jenn said showing a lumpy hat that Hermione didn't notice she had been holding.

"Fantastic!" Hermione said without mirth.

"And we were punished too Hermione—"

"Oh I heard all about that. A full three day suspension. How terrible for you two," she said sarcastically. "Sorry if you weren't listening earlier because you were too busy shagging like bunnies, but I am on a three week suspension. THREE WEEKS." Hermione grabbed her beaded bag off of the floor and swung it onto her shoulder with difficulty, she really needed to sort through it and take out the unnecessary items, like the tent, the spare cauldron, the washing machine... "If you'll excuse me I am going to head home after a long and arduous day," Hermione sniffed and stormed out of her office.

As soon as she had left Amy and Jenn found themselves magically pushed out of the office and thrown to the ground. Hermione didn't look back once, even after she heard their groans of pain. _They deserve it_, she thought. However she was about to reconsider this thought, finding it rather rude, but the lift doors had already closed so she shrugged her shoulders and carried on to her flat unhindered.

Despite her guilt tripping Amy and Jenn she was actually looking forward to this research project, even if it was with Malfoy. Thinking about Malfoy reminded her of the fact that they were about to kiss back there. Or at least she had the impression that was where their closer than usual contact was heading. _Maybe he was just trying to trick me into doing something that he could hold over my head forever_, she thought, disturbed. But if she was being honest the most disturbing thought was that she _wanted_ to kiss him. Her waist tingled where he had been holding her. _God I must be desperate if I want Malfoy._ This disturbing thought did not, however, stop her from dreaming about him later that night. Hermione woke up with a blush on her face and thanked Heaven that Malfoy couldn't read thoughts. _He isn't a legilimens, is he?_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Hitting the books

Hermione walked with Draco to _Paul's_ as per usual. What was less than common was the awkward silence that filled the air. Heated images from her dream kept popping up into her mind. Images that Hermione "The Saint" Granger ought not to have been thinking about, especially in the presence of the star of said unsettling dreams—_nightmares_. To the couple's delight Ernie appeared from his first floor flat and joined their trek to the diner. Once there Hermione dropped the bomb that she and Draco would be spending more time together than either of them felt the desire to.

"You were demoted?" Ernie asked after choking on his food.

"Chew, Mack. I would prefer not to have to perform magic in front of these Muggles to save your life," Draco drawled while stirring his tea. It was the first time her had spoken all morning.

"Yes, we were," Hermione answered sullenly. "But," she suddenly cheered up, "We'll be doing a research project on the _Cruciatus curse_! Isn't that lovely?"

"Not exactly the word I would use to describe it," Ernie said, stifling a yawn. "How do you two wake up so bloody early every day? I mean the food is worth it. But sleep…" Ernie yawned again.

"Some of us go to bed at a decent hour." Hermione smiled. She missed Ernie. "Where have you been the past few days… come to think of it the past week and a bit?" Hermione asked.

Ernie blushed.

"I knew it." The corners of Draco's lips were upturned ever so slightly.

"Knew what?" Hermione demanded.

"I haven't the foggiest…" Ernie said unconvincingly.

"But who is it, Mack?" Draco asked leaning in ever so slightly.

"Who is—oh!" Hermione understood. "Are you seeing someone?"

"Uh… Well technically…"

"Who is it?" Hermione asked excitedly.

"I—Wow, is that the time? I promised Ruthers I would get in early today," Ernie said, looking at his nonexistent watch. He shoved the rest of his pancake into his mouth and smiled. "Bhh," he said, which Hermione took as 'Bye'. Ernie then proceeded to flee the shop.

"Who do you think it is?" Hermione asked Draco immediately.

"It has to be someone discreet or I would already know who it is," Draco said thoughtfully stirring his tea again. Hermione was unsure why he did this, since he drank his tea black, but refrained from asking.

"Why do you stir your tea if you drink it black?" Well she tried to refrain from asking.

"Huh?" Draco stopped stirring his tea and met her eyes. This was the first time that their eyes had met since what Hermione was referring to in her mind as 'the incident' happened the night before. Her body suddenly seemed to be humming with magic and she was almost instantaneously flushed. _What is wrong with me?_

"You…er…" Hermione broke eye contact and gathered her thoughts. Breathing easier, she repeated, "You stir your tea, but there's nothing to stir. Because you never put anything in it." However flashbacks from her Draco-filled dreams were once again cropping up into her head.

"It's a habit. I don't know why I do it," Draco lied. "Why are you suddenly so interested in my life Granger? I thought we were trying to determine what, or rather who, Mack, the sneaky little bugger, is trying and failing to hide from us."

"We can always bother him at lunch about it," Hermione said still unnerved from the effect that Draco's eyes seemed to have on her. "Well, I am going to head off to the Staff Lounge to comb through the books on the shelves. I'll also send out a hospital wide call for books to be submitted to us—"

"Perhaps it should just be you, most people will refuse once they see the name Malfoy," Draco cut her off.

Hermione glanced up at him to see him staring at the table sullenly, stirring his tea again. "Right, so to send them to me by the end of this week. What do you say that we meet in the lobby to apparate Amicus at 7:30?"

"Perhaps we can say 9:30 so that I may have my mother's house elf procure any books that may be of use from the Manor," Draco suggested lightly.

"House elf?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Have a potion Granger, she's paid and has one day off a week as required by your Bill. Which I signed for, in case you forgot."

"Yes, you did. Thank you," she said sincerely. "That sounds perfect Malfoy. But why send your house elf when you could just go yourself?"

Draco imperceptibly straightened. "I have some things to take care of in my department."

Hermione sensed that he was not being entirely truthful but did not press it. If he didn't want to return to that dark place she wouldn't be the one to judge him. "Sounds grand. 9:30 in the lobby then. Actually can we say the Staff Lounge, I don't want to be waiting around the Welcome Witch. She's entirely too cheerful for me to stomach," Hermione confessed.

Draco chuckled lightly. "Indeed. I shall see you then."

Hermione stood and strode across the street to St. Mungo's without another word. With each step away from Malfoy she seemed to be able to get a better grip on herself. For a moment back there she didn't want to leave his presence. _It is going to be an interesting three weeks_.

Yet the first week of studying was much more dull than Hermione could have hoped for. Winky, Narcissa's house elf, was unable to find anything of use at the Manor. Hermione had the sneaking suspicion that only the Malfoy heir would be able to access the hidden caches full of dark secrets himself, but she could not force herself to suggest that he go there. Instead she and Malfoy visited Amicus, the international wizarding library located in the middle of a field somewhere near Hogwarts. And after hundreds of books, essays and even Google searches Hermione and Draco had very little success. They would meet at Amicus every morning and separate until lunch when they apparated back to _Paul's_ for food. After which they would separate again and research more until one of them found the other and called it a night. But as the week progressed to Friday the nights got longer, one of them hoping to find something of use before the other. The long hours poring through book after book made Hermione forget all about 'the incident' with Draco. Or perhaps it was the fact that she was resolutely pushing it to the back of her mind and the fact that she spent more time in the company of dead trees than him.

* * *

Hermione found herself once again at the Leaky Cauldron surrounded by the rabble of her friends: Harry, Ginny, Ron, George, Luna, Neville, Dean Thomas, and, to her dismay, Lavender Brown. Although happy that she had survived the war without being effected by Fenrir Greyback's bite, Hermione still had no desire to be around the vapid girl. Lavender was wearing a low cut pink tank top that showed off her ample bosom and short white skirt. Her hair was in perfect curls with an intricate looking braid creating a sort of crown on her head.

Hermione hadn't felt really self-conscious since Hogwarts, but Lavender Brown always made her feel inadequate, just by being in the same room as her. Hermione couldn't fault the girl though, she was genuinely nice to her, now that Hermione was out of the way of her and Ron.

"Hermione your column this week was absolutely fantastic! The pictures of how to perform that healing spell saved my nails this week. Honestly. I tore the whole nail off on Thursday and I am shit at healing spells, but I pulled out your article," Lavender shoved her dark red nails into Hermione's face. "Needless to say, I saved some healer at Mungo's some time."

"How often are you going to be writing articles, Hermione?" asked Dean.

"We've upped her to weekly," Lavender answered. She glanced at Luna as if to say, _how often does the _Quibbler_ have Hermione Granger writing for them?_

"That's lovely, Hermione," said an unfazed Luna, "I wish we had more room in _The Quibbler_ for you!"

"Don't worry about it Luna. I've got plenty on my plate as is." Hermione excused herself to the bathroom and Ginny squeaked after her 'wait for me!'

They passed the Slytherin table. Hermione smiled vaguely at the group and made an extra effort to make sure that she did not make eye contact with Malfoy. She missed Ginny casting Blaise a longing look and Blaise starting to rise from his seat only to sit back down after the shake of a head from Ginny.

"Can you believe Ron and Lavender are together again?" Ginny asked Hermione as she peed.

"I'm surprised there's still anything there," Hermione said honestly, peeing as well.

Both girls flushed and washed their hands. "Not jealous are you?" Ginny asked after a pause.

"Of course not! I was the one that broke things off, remember? I'm still his friend and I think that he can do better."

Pansy Parkinson emerged from the last stall in the bathroom that Hermione had not noticed was occupied. There was an awkward silence. Then, "Even I agree with you there. About Wea—Ron. He could do better. And that's saying something coming from me…"

"I just don't get what he sees in her. I mean she's beautiful and all, but all that she cares about is gossip," Ginny chimed in, apparently happy to chat with Pansy as if they used to go on play dates in the days of their youth.

"Blonde hair and boobs ring any bells?" Pansy said invoking laughter from Hermione and Ginny both. "You're not dating Potter still are you Ginny?" she asked switching subjects.

"Oh, fortunately no."

"Fortunately? What happened there?"

"He ended it. I didn't want to be the one to break the 'Chosen One's' heart. Can you imagine the _Witch Weekly_ headlines?"

"Dodged a curse there," Pansy joked. Hermione was staring at the two women in shock. _When did they become friends?_

"And from what I overheard, you're single too, eh, Granger?"

"Uhh… yeah."

"We should totally go out sometime," Pansy said suddenly.

"Pardon?" Hermione asked unsure if she was having another bizarre dream.

"Like to a club. I hear the Muggle ones are a lot of fun. And personally I would love to get my hands on a man if you catch my drift," Pansy raised her eyebrows suggestively then added, in case there was any confusion, "I want a random stranger's cock. And who better than a Muggle who will never be able to contact me again?" She said practically.

Hermione was shocked into silence.

Ginny smiled. "We'd love to!"

"Tomorrow night?" Pansy asked.

"I usually go to my parents…"

"Oh shush, you go to your parents every weekend. Let's go out dancing! When was the last time you even got drunk?" Ginny asked, trying to convince her.

"Last Friday night!" Hermione said, not forgetting her hangover anytime soon. Or the fact that she had given Malfoy a free show.

Ginny seemed confused but instead continued to pressure Hermione. "Please. We never get to spend time together alone anymore. The boys are always there!"

"And my only friends are male. I need a break," Pansy confessed.

Hermione was very surprised by the two of them pressuring her, mostly Pansy though. She finally conceded, "Fine."

Pansy did a mini happy dance. "I can't wait!" She was suddenly serious, "I know we have a terrible history together, but I want you two to know that I have been trying to prove to the world that I am not the person that I was in Hogwarts. I never chose a side during the war. I was just a conceited and ignorant bully. I hope that one day you can forgive me." Hermione was once again dumbfounded. "Can't wait for tomorrow night!" She shouted switching tones in less than a second flat. "I'm going to go brag to the boys. They're going to be so jealous that I'm getting lucky tomorrow night." With that Pansy fluttered out of the room.

"What just happened?" Hermione asked.

Ginny was fixing her hair in the mirror and adjusting her cleavage. She was wearing a tight black short dress and tall black heels (which was a bit much for a casual night at the Leaky Cauldron, in Hermione's humble opinion). "Are you referring to the fact that we're suddenly best friends with Pansy Parkinson?"

"How did that just happen?"

Ginny shrugged. "I want to go dancing." She too left the loo with a spring in her step.

Hermione watched her go still not comprehending what had just happened. _Did Pansy just apologise for everything?_ She shook her head and smoothed her t-shirt down. Unlike every other female tonight, she had decided to wear a simple white tee and black jeans. Whereas everyone else seemed to be showing off their best wardrobe items, even Luna was wearing a flattering yellow dress. Hermione sighed. _Fuck Lavender Brown._

Back at the Slytherin booth Pansy was telling Theo, Blaise and Draco about the "delicious Muggle penis headed her way", much to their dismay.

"Pansy must you always be so graphic?" Theo asked frowning.

"That really isn't me being graphic. And you're just upset 'cause blondie over there is chatting up Hannah," Pansy indicated Ernie MacMillan.

"Is that Mack?" Draco asked, surprised to see him since he had all but disappeared after Hermione and Draco had attempted to interrogate him about his mysterious girl. Draco stood up and walked over to him while Theo fumed silently in his seat. "Mack?" Draco asked as he approached.

"Dray!" Ernie exclaimed, capturing Hermione's attention, who was just emerging from the loo and migrated over to the bar to say hello.

"Ernie. I can't believe it's you! We thought that you offed yourself or something. I haven't seen you in days," Hermione said.

"Been hiding from something MacMillan?" asked Hannah with a smile that said that she knew exactly what Ernie was hiding.

"Nonsense," Ernie spluttered.

"Who is it?" Draco and Hermione demanded at the same time.

"It's not Hannah is it?" Draco asked somewhat worried. Theo would be crushed.

Hannah laughed at that. "Okay not Hannah, then…" Hermione was stumped.

"Good," Draco said faintly. This attracted Hermione's attention.

"Why is it so important to you two?" Ernie asked with a fierce blush on his cheeks.

"Why are you so afraid to tell us?" Hermione countered.

"I'm not afraid," Ernie said weakly.

"Cut the bullshit Mack. We're going to find out eventually," Draco threatened.

"You don't intimidate me anymore Malfoy."

"Really?" Draco asked suddenly seeming to loom over Ernie with a sinister look on his face and sparks flying from his wand.

Ernie gulped. "Okay, well maybe a little. But…we're friends so I know it's all show," he said quickly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Friends?"

"Yeah, friends. Admit it. You're friends with a Hufflepuff! No you're _good_ friends with a Hufflepuff."

"Are you sure you two aren't secretly seeing each other?" Hannah asked smiling broadly.

"Please. I can do much better than MacMillan," Draco joked.

"Hey!" Ernie complained.

"No offense, of course. Dear old friend of mine."

Hermione smiled. Today was really bizarre.

"Hannah why don't we all move to the big table. Take the night off, join us," Ernie offered.

"Who's us?" Draco asked with his arms across his chest.

"Everyone," he gestured at the two booths of former Hogwarts students.

"It may have escaped your notice, but we are not a group of people who usually share one large table Mack."

"That's a wonderful idea!" Hannah proclaimed hanging up her apron and trying to think of conversation starters with Theo. All she had so far was, 'I want you' which may or may not scare him off.

"I don't see everyone at my table wanting to join…" Hermione trailed off looking over at Malfoy in his dress pants and fitted long sleeve shirt uncomfortably. "It's not that… We're not being prejudiced against Slytherins…or…It's just…"

Draco was very still. He replied neutrally, "Of course."

"Nonsense! Everyone will come over if you ask them to Hermione," Ernie said, all smiles. He started for the large dining table in the centre of the pub.

Hermione was worried that she had offended Malfoy again. Which was something that she never thought she would care about.

After Hermione's proposal to her friends Ginny was the first the jump on the bandwagon. Hermione filed that away for later under 'important'; _Why did Ginny want to spend time with the Slytherins? Why was Ginny so receptive to Pansy?_ Ron, George and Harry felt the need to follow her to the table to make sure that she was not going to be bullied by the Slytherins and everyone else followed suit with very little question after that.

As for Draco, Blaise was seated beside Ernie MacMillan before Draco had even finished talking. Theo was quick to follow once he saw that Hannah was there (and after using up all of his limited courage he sat down beside her). Pansy, who seemed to be best friends with Granger and Weasley all of the sudden accompanied Draco over to the new table. On the way she casually said, "I think Blaise and Ginny have fucked," under her breath. She sat on the other side of Ernie across from Ron. Draco's eyes narrowed in on the fact that Blaise and Ginny were sitting across the table from one another, chatting amicably.

Draco sat down between Pansy and Granger. Feeling most secure between the two of them. And surprisingly, it wasn't all that bad. Draco spoke with Hermione about the Alihotsy draught, which causes insanity, and ignored most everyone else. This of course led to new inventions in medicine (did you hear that there is a potion that can stop your leg hair from growing indefinitely? Well there's also this thing called 'laser hair removal' that Muggles do, it's more or less the same thing…and so on). The rest of the table ignored him too. They went about their conversations as if there had been no change in seating, the one group mostly ignoring the other.

Hannah however, made great progress in her 'seduce Theo' plan. She was leaning toward him and even had her hand on his knee as they spoke about Magical Law since the end of the War. Not only was he attractive, she was genuinely interested in what he was saying. He was also extremely good looking with his little comb over, dress pants and blue shirt with the top button undone.

As people began to disperse for the night, Hermione was thankful that she only had one beer unlike the week before. Despite her sobriety, she still found herself sidelong Apparating home with Draco Malfoy. Before she left she saw Theo and Hannah disappearing behind the bar counter. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She however did not see Ginny and Blaise nestled in a small corner booth at the back of the pub, most likely due to the fact that they had cast a distraction charm that would make most people's eyes slide right over them as if they were not there.

Hannah, for instance, did not see the couple while she lead Theo into the kitchen.

"I don't see how anything back here can apply to—" Theo began as Hannah led him into the kitchen. Hannah's lips were pressed against his cutting off his sentence. Theo stood frozen.

"Is this okay?" Hannah pulled back suddenly because of his lack of response.

Theo nodded dumbly and grabbed her face to bring their lips back together not believing his luck. His body was no longer frozen in shock as evidenced by him lifting her onto the counter and snogging her senseless. "More than okay," he confessed between kisses.

* * *

Hermione landed them on her balcony.

"Thanks for the lift Granger," Draco smiled. He was tipsy enough that it was an actual smile. He still clung to her hand, a wave of heat emanating from where their hands touched.

"You're welcome," she said quietly. She seemed to be avoiding eye contact. "It seems silly to leave separately when we live so close together," she said somewhat breathlessly.

"Everything alright?" Draco asked concerned that she had more to drink than he thought and should not have been apparating.

"Huh?"

"You seem a little breathless there."

"It's the apparition, gets me every time." Draco, however, had the sneaking suspicion that she was lying.

"Are you excited for your little outing with Pansy?"

"Oh, that."

"Don't sound too thrilled Granger."

"What is that all about?" Hermione asked. "The whole Pansy being nice thing. Are you trying to get her to spy on us or something?"

"Really. Why would I get her to spy on you? I can literally see into your living room from my flat."

"You can what?" Hermione exclaimed.

"Not that I've ever looked before," Draco amended quickly.

"You better not have Malfoy," she threatened.

"Well you should keep your curtains closed!"

"What did you see?" She demanded.

"Nothing. Calm down, Granger." She gave him a pointed look. "Okay, I saw you petting your cat."

"That better have been all."

"Well if you're the one parading around in front of your windows naked that's your prerogative. I'm just saying, anyone could see."

"That's where you're wrong. Only someone with magically abilities can see into my flat. I charmed it that way so that Muggles wouldn't catch me doing magic."

"Clever."

"Thank you."

"But any wizard or witch could see."

"That being only you, Malfoy! Since we're the only non-Muggle besides Ernie in the neighbourhood."

"That we know of." She gave him that pointed look again that brooked no argument, "I've never see you naked, okay!" _Even if I wanted to_.

"Good," Hermione huffed.

"You never answered my question; are you excited for tomorrow night?"

"I suppose so. I haven't been dancing in a long time."

_What I wouldn't give to see you swinging those hips._ Draco shook his head trying (and failing as badly as Goyle did on his Charms O.W.L.) to dispel the thought of Hermione giving him a private dance. "Indeed… And are you as…goal-oriented as Pansy?" Draco asked swinging their still entwined hands. He was leaning against the railing of her balcony.

"Goal-oriented?" Hermione frowned. "Oh!" She blushed to her roots probably remembering one of Pansy's loud declarations about getting 'Muggle cock'. "I—Uhm—"

Draco laughed, somewhat relieved that she was not up for a one night stand, but unsure why he was relieved. "Just be safe Granger, blokes at clubs are pushy and if you're going to a Muggle place you can't defend yourself with a wand. And you know. Use protection," he said with a knowing smirk.

Hermione blushed even more: Her face was practically luminescent on the dark balcony. "I'm—I'm not looking for… I'm not Pansy, Draco!"

Draco tilted his head, light from the street falling onto his face and revealing his eyes. He was smirking ever so slightly. He pulled Hermione closer to him from their linked hands. "I know you're not," he said looking her in the eyes. _And that's why I—NO. _Draco was not allowing that thought to pass through his mind.

Hermione seemed to stop breathing for a moment. She stared at him blankly, their bodies almost touching.

"Night, Grangie, and have fun tomorrow," Draco winked and let go of her hand. He disappeared. Hermione vaguely heard the sound of a glass sliding door open and glanced up to see him disappear into his flat across the alleyway.

* * *

Malfoy found Hermione in Amicus sitting in one of the thousands of book aisles reading a very large and very old book with very small loopy cursive writing. It was Saturday and they technically were not researching today. He almost continued walking, but since it was already five in the afternoon the library would be closing soon anyway, so he could easily use that as his reason to leave her presence should he want to end their conversation early. He sat down across from her in the hallway and it took Hermione a full thirty seconds to notice him there. Thirty seconds that he used to look her over several times. She was leaning against one bookshelf with her head bent close to her book. Her hair was in a messier bun than usual with a few strands falling into her face and she was wearing tattered blue jeans and a Gryffindor long sleeved shirt. And glasses.

"Why are you wearing glasses?" he asked finally.

Hermione jumped, the book falling to the ground with a loud thump. Her heart stuttered. "Jesus! Malfoy, how long have you been sitting there?"

"No need to call me that bizarre bearded man that Muggles seem to worship." Draco smirked.

"What are you doing here? It's Saturday."

"I could ask you the same," he stated, picking up the heavy tome she had been examining before.

"I asked first."

"So it would seem. Believe it or not Granger, this is how I spend most of my Saturdays. I enjoy reading and this past week of research with no results has left me somewhat downtrodden. So here I am looking for anything that is helpful in regards to the _Cruciatus_ with no luck. Why are you wearing glasses?" He asked again.

"Because I read too much."

Draco laughed. "Only you would ruin your eyesight by reading too much. Why don't you just have someone cure you? Glasses are a pesky business."

"And eye correction spells are known to not last. Plus they remind me of my Muggle heritage. And I like glasses."

"They suit you," Draco said before he realised what he was saying. In order to diminish his unwanted compliment he quickly added on, "For a Muggle invention, they are somewhat practical," then switched the subject, "how has your search been today?"

"I think that this book may actually be helpful. I ordered it on Tuesday from the reserves and it is finally here." Draco began to flip through it.

"This could be helpful…" he commented as he noted how many pages were dedicated to the structure of the _Cruciatus_. He looked up at her in her cute glasses that dwarfed her face.

Hermione took the book back and opened to the page that she was on before his interruption. "I wish there were more books. It's just so hard to find anything because it's such a dark and illegal curse… I wish…"

"I have a confession," Draco said suddenly.

Hermione looked up, eyes wide. "Yes?"

"I know where a book may be."

"The Manor," she breathed. "But you don't want to go there."

"I don't go there. Ever. Not since…" _She tortured you_.

"That place must hold some very dark moments for you, Draco." Hermione had reached out across the aisle and was holding his hand gently.

"For _me_?" He was confused. "But you were…"

"I know. I was tortured there by Bellatrix," Hermione said in a voice far more brave than she felt finally talking about this with him.

"I—Hermione, I wanted to—"

"I know Draco," she said quietly. "You did what you could without raising suspicion."

"But it wasn't enough," he pulled his hand away from hers.

"It bought us the time we needed."

"How can you defend me?"

"It was stand there, or die. How could I not?"

"You're lying," Draco said uncertainly. "I did nothing to help. She—she was so—"

"I know what happened Draco," Hermione said sharply. She grabbed his hand again. "I was tortured and it is one of my worst memories of my life. You were forced to become a Death Eater by your father and blackmailed into attempting to kill Dumbledore. You had to witness torture and killings and not say anything or you would be killed. You're not innocent. But you're not entirely guilty either. The Manor will always hold awful memories for you. But this is how you can atone for your past. Go there and find the books that we need so that we can help those that made it out alive. That's what I want as recompense."

Draco stared at their hands. He dropped hers and stood up resolutely. "I'll be back."

"Well the library closes in twenty minutes, why not meet at my flat instead?" Hermione offered, unsure of what had overcome her. _Did I just forgive Draco Malfoy? Did I just invite him over for a study party?_ Apparently she had.

Hermione ran around her flat tidying as she went. She magically locked her bedroom door so that Draco would not be able to enter. She straightened her cushions and made her dishes wash themselves while she boiled the kettle. She had just snuggled into the corner of her armchair and cracked open the large book that she had found at the library earlier when she heard a rapping at her sliding doors. She opened the door to see a heavy-laden Draco. He had books stacked up to his chin. He dropped them onto them onto one of her wooden side tables.

"There's more. I'll be back in a minute." He headed back to her balcony, but added, "Don't touch any of those Granger. There's dark magic in most of them and they might react badly to a Muggleborn." Then he _apparated_ away to the Malfoy manor.

Hermione carefully examined the large stack of books, thinking that Draco had just grabbed all the books that he could get his hands on. Upon examination, however, she realised that the books all pertained to the unforgivable curses or other curses that involved torture. They hit the jackpot. Her fingers itched to open the book on top titled 'How to cast a more powerful_ Cruciatus_ Curse.' She was about to ignore Draco's probably very practical advice and reached for the book with a cautious finger when Draco walked back in through her open glass doors with another stack just as large.

"I said not to touch them Granger. I would rather not have to bring you to St. Mungo's tonight." Hermione jumped back from the pile trying to look innocent. "I have one more run to do. I'll be back in a moment. _Do not touch_," he ordered her sternly.

Draco disappeared again and Hermione sat down beside the pile of books that were half her height. She physically had to sit on her hands to stop herself from reaching for the pile again. Draco reappeared a moment later with a smaller pile of books than before. He added them to the precarious stack on her side table and Hermione wondered if it would be able to manage all the weight. She cast a non-verbal reinforcement charm just in case.

"Okay. What do you think is the best way for us to approach this?" Draco asked. "What is that?" Draco demanded pointing at Crookshanks who had just emerged from the kitchen and jumped onto the loveseat beside him.

"_That_, is my cat, Crookshanks."

"That's a cat?" Draco asked doubtfully.

"Well, technically he's part kneazle. But he is indeed my cat," Hermione's voice transformed into that annoying voice that parents and pet owners save for their pets/children as she said, "Aren't you Crookshanks?" The cat-beast meowed in response.

Crookshanks was determinedly making his way over to Draco despite Draco's obvious offense at his presence. Crookshanks stepped onto Draco's lap and sat down resolutely. He looked up at Draco as if to say, "Try and stop me" and began to purr noisily.

Hermione laughed. "I think that he likes you. You should tell Ron, it'll drive him up the wall that Crookshanks likes you better than him!"

"Trust me, I would prefer if this oversized beast did not prefer my presence," Draco said with disdain.

Hermione smiled at his discomfort. "I would be nice to him, he has been known to unleash his claws on mean humans before."

Draco eyed the cat warily. He ended up giving up and petting Crookshanks cautiously. The cat began to purr even louder. "How do you sleep with this infernal noise?"

"Back to our task at hand," Draco said, haughtily ignoring the more than content cat in his lap. "How are we going to deal with the possibility of cursed books?"

"Well, perhaps we can run a few curse detection spells to see which books I can touch. The ones that I can't are probably going to be the most helpful though," Hermione sighed.

"Of all people, I'm sure that you'll be able to discover a counter curse," Draco smiled.

Hermione was taken aback by his smile. _His teeth are so white_. She missed the fact that he had already started to scan the first book in the pile. "This one appears to be fine, Granger," he said offering her it and moving onto the next. And the next, and so on for another forty books.

"I can't believe that you have so many books about torture," Hermione commented as Draco continued to scan the books for curses.

"Please, one thing that the Malfoy family has an abundance of is information on dark magic. For once, my heritage is helpful," Draco muttered.

"Seriously though, if I had kept looking alone I would never have had access to these…"

"And if you had never convinced me to go to the Manor… For once I agree with you, Granger. I'm glad that we were assigned this project."

She looked over at him: his bleach blonde hair was falling into his face as he bent over the books and moved his wand up and down over them. She noted that he was once again wearing black dress pants and a light blue button down shirt. _How many dress pants does this man own? I wonder what he looks like in jeans_, she wondered absentmindedly. Crookshanks was still in his lap purring loudly. _He's going to have cat hair all over his perfect pants_, she thought, glad that Crookshanks was inconveniencing Draco somehow.

"I'm going to start with _The Finer Points of Torture_," Hermione announced, feeling awkward staring at him. The book that she picked up had razor sharp edges. _Ironic._

Draco finished scanning the pile later, only a dozen books were not cursed, to Hermione's dismay, but Draco began working on those that were cursed.

An hour later Hermione's stomach growled. Loudly.

"Would you like to order in with me?" she asked Draco.

"Order in?"

"You know, Chinese food or pizza or something."

"They bring it right to your door?" Draco asked incredulously.

"I believe that's the idea."

"I've been living in Muggle London for over three years and no one felt the need to tell me about this until now? And Mack calls himself my friend."

"So what do you want?" Hermione asked from her kitchen, pulling out some menus. "Personally I would love some pizza. There's this place down the road…" Hermione almost drooled.

"How do you know that we can trust these delivery people?" Draco inquired.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll just get a medium pizza." She picked up her home phone and punched in the number. "Hi, I'd like to place an order for delivery."

"What is that thing?" Draco asked loudly. "Have you lost your mind Granger? Who are you talking to?"

Hermione smiled and ignored him. "Yes, medium. Extra pineapple and extra cheese. See you then." She hung up. "This is a phone, Malfoy. It's what Muggles use to communicate."

"A Phone?"

"Yes. Instead of sending letters you can talk to one another in real time."

"But that's…ingenious."

Hermione's mouth fell open.

"Why hasn't the wizarding world found some way to adapt them? Owls are such messy ways to communicate. And expensive!"

"I… suppose it's a recent invention. The wizarding community is always decades behind catching up to the Muggle one…" Hermione said slowly. _Who was this man and what had he done with Draco Malfoy?_ "You are really full of surprises, Malfoy." She sat back down in her armchair and returned to reading her book, her glasses still in place.

They continued to work in silence until the pizza arrived thirty minutes later.

"This is surprisingly delicious, Granger," Draco said, almost suspiciously.

"And all I have to do is get one of those pone things?"

"_Phone_," she corrected. "I can show you how to use one," she found herself saying.

Draco nodded as he took a bite of his pizza.

"This is pretty bleak work," Hermione commented after a few moments of silence. "I honestly could have gone my whole life without knowing how sensitive the fingernail region is," she grimaced.

"The worst part about finding these books is that they're as disturbing as they are helpful. I did find a passage about how the want movement used can affect the lasting effects of the curse, but few wizards know this so they often make the side effects better or worse by accident."

"Draco, this is a huge discovery! Why didn't you say something earlier?" she asked. 'Draco' slipping past her lips before she could mentally remind herself that she did not like _Malfoy_ and only referred to him as Malfoy.

"I figured that it could wait until we took a break."

"Well, in the future, I do not mind being interrupted for discoveries, considering the fact that I have found nothing, knowing that you are getting somewhere makes the work seem worthwhile. I think the only time that I wished that Bellatrix survived the Final Battle was right now, so that I could ask her what she knew. She truly understood the _Cruciatus_." Hermione put her book down. "I have a suggestion, that you may or may not like."

Draco sighed. "I'm sure you've already made up your mind about it either way."

"I want to look through the Azkaban registry and see who was sentenced for use of the _Cruciatus_, but not just people who used it, but who _really_ used it. More than once, during the war. Who would know what it means to cast the curse."

"And then you'll go traipsing through the corridors of a prison full of lunatics who would do anything to kill you?"

"Of course not," Hermione said as if he were an idiot, "I'll march with my head held high, and you'll be there too. Remember, we discussed disguises?"

"Okay, but if you're looking for criminals does that mean that you're leaving me to do all the researching of terrible torture methods?" Draco asked in a whiny voice. "Because you're the bookworm here, not me."

"Considering the fact that you admitted to coming to the library on Saturdays _for fun_, I find it hard to believe that you're not a bookworm. Besides, it is easier for you to do the research because you can touch all of the books. You can leave this pile of twelve books with me and I'll work through them, at a slower rate and put criminal search as my priority."

"Fine. But once we find them I get to interrogate them," Draco said.

"No promises."

"Granger, I know how these wastes of space think. It makes most sense if we—"

"This is a team project. So we should interrogate them as a team."

Draco crossed him arms. Hermione did the same. Hermione noticed that his eyes flicked down to her breasts briefly as she moved her arms. She blushed lightly.

"What time is it?" she asked trying to change the subject.

"Seven."

"Oh sugar! I've got to get ready for our girls night," Hermione stood up quickly trying to think about what she should wear. She had agreed to meet at Ginny's flat in a half hour and she wanted to be ready because Ginny would insist that she wore some scandalous outfit if she showed up looking too normal.

"Why do you look so worried, Granger? Isn't this supposed to be a fun night?"

"Ginny," she said over her shoulder as she threw open her bedroom door and slammed it shut behind her.

Draco sat in her blue loveseat awkwardly, unsure if that was his cue to leave. He began to close his book as Hermione emerged from her dark room wearing a modest short black dress. Crookshanks hopped off of Draco's lap—_At last_—and began circling Hermione's feet.

"Is this too modest?" she asked as she examined herself in the large mirror that hung on the wall beside her bedroom door.

Draco allowed his eyes to wander her slight frame. He clenched his book tightly, making his pale fingers even whiter. But did not respond.

"Because Ginny will not allow me out if it's too modest. And she'll make me wear one of her ridiculous dresses or skirts," Hermione explained turning around to look at herself from behind.

_Was Christmas coming early? _Draco cleared his throat. "It might…"

"It is, isn't it?" Hermione went back into her room slamming the door once again. However, this time Draco was acutely aware of the fact that she was changing behind the door and remembered her lacy black undergarments from a few weeks ago.

She re-emerged wearing a short pink dress that was low cut and displayed her small breasts quite lovely (_Was she wearing a push up bra, or are her boobs always so perky?_). It flared from her waist down. "I'm not too sure about the pink," she said looking at herself in the reflection of her mirror. She did not seem to notice Draco's eyes glued to her body or the heated look that was taking over his face.

Draco was unsure how many dresses she owned as she returned to her room without waiting for a response. She came out another agonising minute full of images of half-naked Hermione later in a very tight and long wide-strapped green dress. "What about this one?" She glanced at Draco who had been staring none too discreetly at her ass.

"Huh?"

"I think the length makes it look too formal."

"Yeah," Draco agreed without hearing what he was saying.

Hermione disappeared into her room again. Draco was just thinking that he needed a nice cool glass of water and to vacate the premises since he seemed to be having bizarre thoughts toward the brunette when she emerged again. If he had had a glass of water, he would have probably choked at the sight of her: she was in an impossibly tight red backless dress. It flared out slightly from the waist down, looking pleated, but was very tight around her bust. It seemed to be shimmering gold. It hung on her a way that made every slight curve emphasized. It also covered very little skin. Hermione stepped into a short pair of black heels that she seemed to procure from nowhere and did a spin. She stopped when she was facing Malfoy. He tried very hard to look unaffected by the way the dress flattered her body or the fact that she was probably not wearing a bra because of how low the back of the dress dipped.

"I think I like this one," she announced. Crookshanks meowed in agreeance and curled up on Hermione's abandoned armchair.

Draco cleared his throat again. "Yeah. It's nice," he tried to sound indifferent.

"Thanks for helping, Malfoy. I'm going to be leaving in a few minutes, so…"

"Oh yeah, I'll get out of your hair," Draco tore his eyes away from her body and began stacking the many books that he had brought over from the Manor.

"Hair!" Hermione shouted. She grabbed her wand and began waving it around her head.

"It'll take a few trips to transport these to my flat," Draco said to Hermione who was clearly not paying any attention. He _apparated_ to his flat and took several deep breaths. _Hermione Granger is attractive_, he thought unnervingly. He returned to her flat to see her hair had been tamed into perfect curls that went slightly past her shoulders.

"How…"

"Ginny taught me years ago, you don't think it's too much?" she sounded unsure and touched her hair gently.

"Not at all," Draco reassured her.

By the time he had stacked all of the books into his arms again he turned back to wish Hermione a good night as well as make another offhand comment about sleeping with an unsuspecting Muggle. He, however, was unable to form a sentence when he looked at her. With her shimmering dress, curls, and make up—thick mascara and dark red lipstick—, Hermione was far more than attractive. Draco wanted to push her against the wall and—

"I don't look like too much of a slag do I, Malfoy?" she asked again in that insecure voice that he didn't think he would ever hear.

"Quite the contrary, you look very classy."

"Oh no!"

"Classy for going to a club," he clarified.

"Good." She pet Crookshanks and grabbed her beaded bag from its spot by the doors. "You need to leave so that I can leave, Malfoy," Hermione reminded him seeing as he was still rooted to the spot.

"Right." He walked carefully with his stack of books in his arms onto her balcony. "Have fun tonight, Grangie," he said trying to regain his right mind. He winked and _disapparated_.

"That'll be a challenge," she muttered under her breath and turn on the spot with a quiet _pop._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Spice up Your Life

Hermione landed in the residential corner of Diagon Alley, walked into Ginny's upscale building and rode the lift to the second floor. She heard loud talking over even louder dance music from the other side of the door and plastered a smile on her face, despite the fact that she would rather be researching murders and torturers than going out that night. Although, that wasn't saying much seeing as she preferred research to most other activities in the world. Hermione knocked twice and then twice again louder when there was no answer.

"Hermione!" Ginny shouted as she opened the door. The sound of the Weird Sisters increased to the point that it almost hurt Hermione's ears. Ginny was wearing a tight green dress that barely covered her ass and tall black pumps. Her long curly red hair was in a side pony tail and she was wearing heavy makeup.

Pansy squeezed into the doorframe and yanked Hermione inside. "You look fabulous!" she declared. Pansy was wearing tight short red pencil skirt with a white blouse tucked in. Her heels were red with spikes on the back, her earrings were also spiked. Her short black hair hung flat, framing her square face. Her makeup seemed to be identical to Ginny's very heavy, but oddly flattering.

Hermione was pulled into Ginny's messy, but large flat. She saw Luna and Hannah sitting on Ginny's large couch. Luna was wearing a pair of electric green leggings with bright red radishes on them paired with a white t-shirt with the Deathly Hallows symbol on it and black flats. She was sporting her radish earrings as well and her long blonde hair was straight for once. Hannah was wearing red short shorts, black pumps, a tight black scoop neck t-shirt and had her hair in a ballet bun.

"Hey Hermione! Surprise, Ginny invited us," Hannah smiled and took a sip from her glass.

"Do you like my makeup, Hermione?" Ginny asked stumbling slightly in her talon-like heels.

"It's very… dramatic," Hermione said, trying to be neutral.

"Nailed it!" Pansy exclaimed high fiving Ginny. The two giggled and disappeared into Ginny's kitchen.

_What is going on with those two?_ Hermione questioned for the _n_th time. Hermione sat down beside Hannah. Luna was swaying back and forth to the music.

"I'm very excited to go dancing," Luna said dreamily. "The last time that I went was Bill and Fleur's wedding."

"And we all know how that ended," Hermione said.

"Yes it was fun until the Death Eaters showed up," Luna commented, still smiling. She seemed to enter into a trance as she danced with her eyes closed.

"Hannah, I meant to ask, what is going on between you and Theo?" Hermione addressed the tall blonde bombshell beside her.

"Theo?" she asked blushing deeply.

"They've been snogging for a while now," Luna commented still in her reverie.

Hannah went crimson. "We've only snogged twice!"

Hermione smiled. "How was that?"

"That man has a gifted tongue. I cannot wait until I get to see how else he can use it," she declared boldly.

"Theo will make you forget your name," Pansy said sauntering into the room and levitating five glasses in front of her.

"You've… you and him?" Hannah asked uncertainly.

Pansy laughed, well Hermione would have used the word cackled; it was very loud. "Merlin, no! But I've spoken with Daphne Greengrass at length about his tongue," she said with a wink. "Don't they say that it's the shy ones that you have to look out for?" she added as she placed the drinks onto the coffee table in front of Ginny's black sectional.

"Hermione, I brought an extra for you because you have to catch up with us," Ginny said handing her a shot of bubbling amber liquid.

"What is this?" Hermione questioned, holding it at arms-length.

"Just a little something that Pansy has cooked up for our Girl's night out. Don't worry, I've already had some and I'm still alive. Now be a good girl and drink up," Ginny lifted the shot to Hermione's lips and she reluctantly swallowed the bittersweet liquid. It was surprisingly cold.

"Where are we headed ladies?" Hannah questioned as she grabbed a drink that Pansy had brought out.

"Oh yeah, Hermione, can you get the what's-it-called working so that we can go on the spider web to look up places?" Ginny plopped herself onto the couch beside her.

"The laptop that I bought you?"

"Yeah, the _laptop_! Muggles think of the weirdest names," she said scrunching her nose. Pansy laughed.

"It's the world wide web, Gin, not the spider web," Hermione corrected.

"Same difference," Pansy said downing her drink.

"I'll help," Hannah said. Being a half-blood herself, she knew how to work technology.

The two women walked into Ginny's bedroom to her desk. The room was strewn with undergarments, dresses, skirts and Quidditch robes. Her duvet was on the ground beside her king size bed instead of on it. They heard Pansy declare loudly from the living room, "I can't wait to get my Muggle!"

Within a few minutes Hermione and Hannah had found two clubs along the same road that looked promising. Hermione recognised the area and would be able to side along apparate everyone there, as long as she wasn't too drunk by that point.

"How do you get Muggle technology to work in Diagon Alley?" Hannah asked.

"Ironically, I cast a spell. It doesn't allow any magic to enter a cubed foot around it."

"Clever…" Hannah commented.

"Why do you think Ginny was so quick to agree to go out with Pansy Parkinson?" Hermione asked Hannah as they stood up to leave Ginny's room.

"I'm not sure, but I swear those two are hiding something," Hannah said with narrowed eyes. She shrugged, "Either way, I can't wait to get my groove on!" She shook her butt and strutted back into the other room.

Someone must have changed the CD because the next thing Hermione heard was the Spice Girls blasting loudly (_I'll tell ya what I want what I really really want!_). She smiled recognising the mixtape that she had made Ginny a few years ago and rushed into the other room to join her friends. Ginny, Pansy and Luna were holding hands and chanting, "Girls night out!" at the top of their lungs.

* * *

Hermione was sweating, a lot. The crowd pressed in on her on all sides, but she didn't care. By this point she was quite convinced that Pansy had drugged her; her vision was slightly blurred, her whole body was tingling and all that she wanted to do was dance. She opened her eyes and smiled broadly at Luna across from her. Hannah was to her right, Ginny had gone to the bathroom, _I think_, and Pansy was to her left grinding with more skill than Hermione thought possible on a tall Muggle. The two of them disappeared shortly after. Hermione smiled and closed her eyes again letting the music take her away.

Sometime later, Hermione was not sure how much later, she realised that Pansy was back. _But where's her Muggle_, she wondered. Hermione recognised Ginny's shocking red hair a bit of a ways off, she appeared to be kissing someone, but the lighting did not allow Hermione to see who. Pansy was suddenly dancing on Hermione in the same fashion that she had to the Muggle man earlier. Hermione, who normally would not have known how to respond to such an attack on her body, was too drunk to think twice and moved her hips in sync with Pansy. When she opened her eyes again she could have sworn that she saw Harry standing a few feet away with his mouth open in shock, but when her mind cleared enough to look back again she did not see him anymore.

"Ginny's gone home with a bloke!" Pansy shouted into Hermione's ear.

Hermione smiled. "But you're supposed to be the one getting lucky!" she shouted back.

"There's still time!" she winked and disappeared into the crowd.

Hermione noticed that Luna was slow dancing, despite the upbeat music, with a man who seemed to oddly resemble Neville Longbottom, but it could have been because they were in a Muggle club. Hermione glanced around for Hannah and saw that she was pressed close to a tall man with dark hair, their lips were fused together. _What about Theo_, Hermione thought indignantly. Her anger cleared her head for a moment, and it was at that moment that the man pulled his head back from Hannah's and smiled down at her: it was Theo. Hermione looked back at the would-be Neville and realised that it was the real Neville. She scanned the dance floor, her mind hazy, remembering that she thought that she had seen Harry earlier.

Pansy returned at that moment.

"Neville and Theo are here!" Hermione shouted into her ear over the music.

"That's not all!"

Ron, Harry and Draco squeezed in beside Pansy, fighting against the crowd for space. Hermione hugged Harry, then Ron, then Draco, forgetting that they weren't friends.

"It's a reunion!" she shouted happily and began to sway to the beat once more, Pansy's drink still strong in her system.

Pansy shoved something into Draco's hands and shouted, "Bottoms up!"

Draco took a large swig from the flask and handed it to Potter who took a drink after a pause and in turn handed it to Weasley who glanced at Pansy doubtfully. Pansy raised the drink to Ron's lips and ordered him to "Drink!" to which he finally obliged. As Ron was drinking Pansy began to dance on Hermione again, which almost made Ron choke. Draco patted him on the back with a chuckle that was drowned out by the heavy bass. However Hermione missed this interaction as her eyes were closed and she was floating to the music again.

Draco felt his body becoming tingly and warming up. He could feel the beat resounding in his chest and stared at his best friend and his research partner grinding on one another. He smiled and closed his eyes, swaying to the beat. He knew he should not have accepted a drink from Pansy, having too many terrible hangovers due to the short brunette, but he had a long week and wanted to relax. Draco became entranced by the flashing lights every time he opened his eyes. He actually began to feel a little queasy watching the lights go berserk, so he closed his eyes more often than not.

At some point Pansy and Hermione separated and Theo, Hannah, Neville and Luna joined their misshapen clump in the centre of the dance floor. Draco opened his eyes when he found someone pressed up against him. It was Hermione. The crowd must have moved her over to him. He glanced around and saw that Potter, Weasley and Pansy were no longer there, but Neville and Luna were vigorously kissing as well as Hannah and Theo. Draco smiled at Theo, not that he could notice. _Maybe he'll finally get lucky_.

Hermione's back was pressed against his stomach. She moved less than innocently against Draco's waist. He held back a groan, despite the fact that no one would have heard it anyway. He was finding it hard to think straight and somehow his hands were firmly pressed against her waist pulling her closer to him. They stayed glued together like this for a long time in a trance.

Pansy was on the other side of the club drinking more of her bizarre elixir that she had snuck in under the bouncer's hairy nose. Potter and Weasley were following her around like lost puppies. A Muggle walked up to Harry as Pansy passed her flask over to Weasley and tugged him onto the crowded dance floor. Harry glanced back at Weasley with a vague smile on his face. _I may have mixed this a little stronger than usual_, Pansy thought after seeing Potter's glazed expression. He was quickly lost in the bumping crowd. Pansy grabbed her flask from her freckled companion and tucked it down her ample bosom.

She looked Ron up and down. His red hair was plastered to his face with sweat and his face had the same dreamy expression that one would usually find on Loony's face. He was wearing blue jeans and a light blue t-shirt that showed off his surprisingly muscular arms. _I definitely mixed this too strongly_, Pansy thought before pulling Ron's ear down to her significantly shorter height (even with the heels, that boy was gangly!) and shouting, "What about it, Weasley?"

Ron looked confused. Pansy rolled her eyes and pulled him onto the dance floor anyway. Pansy noticed an attractive Muggle a few feet away from her. _Him_, she thought and pulled Ron so that she could dance suggestively on him and catch the Muggle's attention. Pansy looked over at the Muggle and cast him several suggestive looks. She writhed her body to the beat sensually, treating Ron as if he were a pole. Her Muggle approached and danced in front of her. Pansy looked at him and bit her lip. A few moments later she could be found pressed against the wall, lips locked with the Muggle in question with her hands roaming all over his body.

"Let's get out of here," she said hotly to her unsuspecting Muggle.

She didn't see Ron Weasley frown as he watched her lead the Muggle out of the club.

On the other side of the club, now pushed into a corner of the dance floor by the sheer force of the crowd, Hermione and Draco were still dancing together. Hermione had turned around to face Draco and linked her arms around his neck. The two of them were swaying to their own beat, ignoring the resounding boom of the bass directed by DJ Joseph Gordon. Hermione's head was pressed against Draco's chest, his arms were around her waist pulling her close and his head was nestled in the crook of her neck.

At first she didn't notice the soft kisses that he was placing on her neck. It was not until he was sucking on her neck wetly that she realised what was happening or the fact that she had been whispering 'yes' with every kiss that he planted. Hermione tangled her hands in Draco's luscious hair and he turned them around so that she was pressed up against the wall. Draco hitched up one of her legs and she began moving against his waist lightly.

Draco was hyper aware of where his skin was in contact with hers. Heat seemed to be emanating from these points of contact; his hand on her bare thigh, one hand on her bare back, and his lips and tongue against her neck most of all. His entire body was still tingly from whatever concoction Pansy had given him. He continued to kiss up and down her neck, becoming more turned on with each passing second. He did not even try to hide his growing arousal, which Hermione was acutely aware of due to their present position. Her erratic breath mirrored his and she groaned out, "Draco" into his ear. Draco pulled her tighter when he heard this.

Draco pulled his swollen lips from Hermione's delectable neck and looked down at her heatedly. He touched their foreheads and began to move his lips toward hers when he was suddenly bodily pulled from Hermione.

"I can't find Theo!" Hannah shouted at the couple, effectively breaking the moment.

Draco almost shouted at her to go away, but one glance at Hermione showed that the mood was ruined and he let her go. "Let's find him then!" Draco shouted back. He grabbed Hermione's hand and Hermione grabbed Hannah's as they worked their way through the slightly less crowded dance floor. _What time is it?_

They found Neville and Luna in the middle of the floor still dancing a slow waltz. Hermione let them know that they would be heading out soon. The couple nodded and continued dancing. They found Ron at one of the bars sitting alone. He joined their search for Theo. It wasn't until they gave up searching and took a bathroom break that Draco found Theo in the loo. He was staring off into space while washing his hands.

"Theo, where have you been mate?" Draco asked, glad that he no longer had to shout.

Theo dried his hands. "What did Pansy give us man?"

"I have no idea," Draco confessed. "But we should have known better than to take anything from that witch." He pushed Theo into the hallway and reunited with the group. Potter had apparently found them as well. "Found him," Draco said proudly pushing Theo in Hannah's direction.

"Theo!" Hannah shouted happily. She kissed his cheek and grabbed his hand. "I was worried," she whispered into his ear, fairly sober.

"I think Pansy drugged us," Hermione said, also more sober than her male counterparts who had only started drinking Pansy's unknown beverage after they had arrived at the bar.

Draco was still quite disoriented and found himself holding Hermione's hand, unsure of how he had got to her side. "That bitch."

"Draco!" Hermione scolded.

"Well she is," he stated caressing her hand lightly with his thumb. The heat pulsating through their connected palms was intoxicating. He saw her gulp silently and would have questioned it were he in his right mind. Instead all he could think about was their almost kiss.

"I think we should head out," suggested Hannah.

"If we can get everyone into the alleyway I should be sober enough to side-along everyone to their respective homes," Hermione suggested.

The group made their way through the emptying club—Neville and Luna were now dancing an elaborate looking tango—and out into the misty London street. Hermione lead them into a dark alley.

"I believe that I know where Ron and Harry live if you want me to bring them and Theo home, you can take care of Draco," Hannah suggested. Theo's hand was entwined with her own tightly.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked eyeing Ron's green face.

"I'll get them home fine," Hannah assured her. She linked her free arm with Harry who linked arms with Ron with a vague smile on his face. "I'll owl you tomorrow, yeah?" Hannah said with a smile and disappeared a moment later.

"Ready to go to bed, Malfoy?" Hermione asked Draco who was leaning on her slightly.

"Draco," he corrected as he leaned his head against hers sleepily.

"Draco," Hermione whispered before apparating them to his balcony. "Can you undo your protective spells?" she asked.

"I'm drunk Granger, not incompetent," he mumbled, as much of an arsehole as ever.

She walked him into his flat after he undid the charms and stared with her mouth open. He stumbled over to what must have been his room and Hermione had déjà vu of when he was the one making sure that she got home okay. "How big is this place?" Hermione asked following him into his bedroom.

"Penthouse," Draco mumbled.

Hermione turned around anticipating the fact that he would be pulling his clothes off to collapse into bed. As Draco noisily tore his clothes off Hermione said, "I am going to place a recovery position spell on you so that you don't hurl, whatever Pansy gave us is very strong."

Draco looked at her bare back and once again admired how flattering her short little dress was on her body. His eyes unfocused for a moment. "Granger, come here," he ordered sleepily from his spot on his four poster king size bed.

She walked over obligingly, not suspecting a thing. If Draco had been more sober, he might have noted that fact that she was staring very obviously at his toned chest and arms, as he had removed his shirt and dress pants and was only sporting a pair of grey silk boxers, but he was not more sober and noticed nothing but how beautiful she looked in that shimmering dress. Once she reached the bed Draco said softly, "Thank you," then pulled her on top of him.

"Malfoy!" she exclaimed, a blush already covering her cheeks. She attempted to push herself off of him, but despite his fuzzy mind, he held her in place easily.

"Just like you said," he said.

"What?" she tried to pull herself away again and was pulled right back onto him as if she were a doll.

"You're on top of me."

"Oh," he could see her remembering her comment from a few weeks ago and blushed even more crimson.

"You asked how it feels." he said huskily, "It feels good."

Hermione did not respond, but appeared to be breathing heavily. Draco pushed her onto her side beside him so that they were spooning. "Now I'm in the recovery position," he whispered into her ear.

"Draco I can't sleep with you—I mean not with you, but in your bed."

"Why not?"

"I'm in my dress," she complained.

"Please don't let me stop you from taking your clothes off."

"I am leaving now, Malfoy."

"Draco," he corrected again.

"I am still leaving, Draco."

"Please," he pleaded, "stay."

"I—"

"I never sleep well. Please. I just need…someone," he confessed, the vulnerability in his voice evident.

Draco felt Hermione shift and the sting of rejection panged in his chest until he realised that she had pulled out her wand and cast a spell so that her dress was replaced by a matching flannel pyjama set. "I don't know what I'm doing," she mumbled almost inaudibly.

"Blame it on Pansy," he said smiling widely, thinking that he needed to send the short witch a gift, perhaps a large box of chocolates.

Draco pulled her close and wrapped a hand around her waist. His other hand was underneath her neck and bent back so that his hand was entwined with one of hers. The warm feeling that he got whenever they were in close contact filled his entire being and made him feel incredibly at ease. "Thank you," he whispered and kissed her cheek lightly. He pulled the covers over them and thanked his lucky stars for Pansy and her scheming mind. Draco held Hermione around the waist protectively and promptly fell asleep.

Because he was asleep he did not notice the warm blue light that was hovering around the entwined couple. Hermione did not notice either because she too found herself in the deepest sleep that she had had since before fourth year. On the other hand, Nymphadora, Draco's cat, noticed the warm light enveloping the couple and eyed it warily. She curled herself in a ball at the far side of Draco's bed, unsure of what to make of the light or the strange female that he had brought home. Usually he locked her out of the room when he brought females home, which Nymphadora always hated and would meow loudly in protest. At least she got to stay in the room she thought as she too closed her eyes.

* * *

Draco awoke to find himself very overheated due, probably, to the fact that a woman was laying on him, her head on his chest, a leg hitched across his waist and her hand linked with his. He tried to remember if he had brought someone home from the Muggle club from the night before, which wasn't really his style as of late. Draco opened his eyes wider as he noticed two things at once: this woman was Hermione Granger, and he had a raging hard on. Both of these were realisations that he could have done without at seven in the morning while his head pounded angrily against the inside of his skull.

Draco was unsure how to deal with either of these issues. If he moved to get his wand to summon a hangover potion he would wake Hermione who would then freak out about being in his bed, despite the fact that she was fully clothed. If Hermione woke up she would notice his none too subtle erection pulsing against her thigh. If she noticed that she would also throw a fit. Not to mention that he was extremely turned on because Hermione was on him and—_oh_ she just moved against him. She mumbled something silently and snuggled her head into his chest and wrapped her leg even more tightly around his waist. She really was torturing him. Draco looked down at her sleeping face and noticed that their hands were entwined above his heart and rested beside her head. His heart panged at the sight for some reason.

_Maybe if I pretend to be asleep and roll onto my side…and then get out of bed before she can notice my morning friend. My wand should be on the side table_, Draco reasoned. This was one of the only times that he regretted having a king size bed, because his wand was so damn far away. He closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing. He started to turn over slightly when he heard her.

"No," she grumbled in a sleepy voice and pulled him back into place.

Draco couldn't believe it; she wouldn't let him leave! _Bossy even in sleep_, he thought with a smile on his face. She then moved her head into the crook of his neck and kissed it softly before going still once again. Draco was frozen. _Did she just kiss me?_ Hermione's breath hitched suddenly and her waist jerked against his. _Does this woman love to torture me?_ She kissed his neck again and started to grind her waist against his slowly. _Definitely trying to torture me_, he concluded. He tried to think of a way out of this situation without Hermione yelling at him.

"Yes," she groaned silently.

_She's having a sex dream!_ He realised suddenly and his cock twitched as she continued to move against him slowly.

"Draco," she whispered almost inaudibly, but only almost, meaning that Draco did in fact hear her say his name sexily.

Draco's eyes snapped open. _She's having a sex dream about me? Shit_. Despite the fact that she had tried to stop him last time, he rolled onto his side and quickly vacated the bed so that if his movement had woken her she would not notice his tented boxers. He grabbed his wand off the floor and disappeared into his en suite without looking back.

Hermione watched his naked muscled back disappear into the bathroom. She thought that she had woken up, but she must still be dreaming because this was definitely not her bed, and Draco Malfoy had just vacated it, and many of her dreams of late included him in bed…naked. Her head pounded and after a moment she realised that her underwear was damp. _Oh bother_, she thought as she remembered the inappropriate dream that she had been having about Draco Malfoy. Her face became a light rose and she groggily sat up, determining that she was in fact no longer dreaming and that she was in fact not in her bedroom; she didn't have emerald green silk sheets or a black duvet or a bed the size of a small kitchen. Given the fact that she could have sworn she saw Draco disappear into the adjacent room and could hear a shower running, she figured that she was in his flat. She then freaked out.

She looked down at her body to see that she was fully clothed, but a quick glance around showed that Draco's clothes were tossed on the otherwise spotless floor. Hermione also noticed that there was a grey and black spotted cat that vaguely resembled a leopard staring her down from the end of the bed.

"Nice kitty," she said softly, reaching toward it slowly.

Nymphadora licked her hand, then seeming to trust Hermione walked over to her and sat on her head. She began to purr softly. Hermione froze, unsure of what to do with a cat on her head.

Draco chose that moment to walk out of his bathroom with only a towel slung low on his hips. Hermione stared at his wet muscled chest and had a flashback of doing the same thing the night before _or was that in my dream?_ Her eyes trailed downward and she quickly pulled them up to look into his eyes. He lifted and eyebrow, clearly having caught her checking him out.

She pointed at Nymphadora on her head. "You have a cat?"

"I see you've met Nymphadora," he said, turning his back on her and opening a black door that lead into a walk in closet. _Nymphadora, like Tonks?_ She pondered.

Hermione tried, and miserably failed, to not stare at his ass as he walked away. It was not until he closed the closet door that Hermione realised she had been staring again. "Malfoy, where are you going? Your cat is holding me hostage here!" Hermione shouted after him. Nymphadora shifted on her head and purred louder. She convinced herself that she wanted him to come back into the room, not so that she could stare at his chest, but so that he could rescue her from his possibly vicious cat.

"She's a cat, move her," he called from behind the door.

"What if she attacks me?" Hermione called back uncertainly.

Draco laughed. He emerged from his closet, which, like his bed, was the size of Hermione's kitchen, wearing a pair of grey slacks and an old Slytherin Quidditch jersey that clung to his muscles far too attractively. She looked at him awkwardly, due to the cat still firmly sitting on her head.

"Did you name her after Tonks?" she asked as he picked up the clothes he had thrown to the floor the night before and instead threw them into his closet onto the floor.

Draco disappeared into his flat without answering. Hermione glanced around unsure of what to do. Her head was still pounding dully thanks to why-did-we-trust-her-Pansy Parkinson. Hermione shifted slightly trying to find a way to extricate herself from Nymphadora without bothering her. Draco returned a few moments later holding a small vial. He sat on the bed and grabbed his cat off of her head easily. Hermione huffed at him. He smirked and offered her the vial. She took it and sat up slowly.

"It'll help with your pounding head," he said after yawning loudly. He leaned against his cushioned headboard and pet Nymphadora who purred loudly in response. Hermione watched him, finding this domesticated side of him very strange. "It's not poison, Granger. I'm not Pansy," he said once he realised she was still holding the vial at arm's-length.

Hermione cast him a doubtful looked, but uncorked it anyway, wanting to clear her head. A few seconds later her brain was no longer throwing its own personal rave. "Thanks," she said sincerely.

They sat in an awkward silence, Hermione staring at Nymphadora's spots and Draco staring off into space as he pet her. Hermione fidgeted uncomfortably aware that she had slept in Draco Malfoy's bed and had a sex dream about said man who now sat a foot away from her looking way too put together for this early in the morning.

"Sleep well?" Draco asked.

Her eyes snapped to his face as a blush rose to hers. She examined him as he continued to stare off into space to see if he were hinting to anything in particular, but could not detect anything on his face but indifference. "Fine," she said feigning neutrality. "Considering it wasn't my bed."

It was then that she remembered how Draco had pulled her into the bed with him, and how vulnerable he had sounded when he asked her to stay. And the fact that she had straddled him! Hermione's blush deepened. _At least we didn't cuddle all night_, she thought with relief.

"Thanks for… keeping me company," Draco said.

"Well, even though you're a git, I wouldn't want you drowning in your own puke or something," Hermione said using his health as a plausible excuse for spending the night in his bed. She crawled off of his massive bed which proved hard, due to the slippery silk sheets. _Silk is impractical_, she thought, annoyed. "Let's not talk about this little sleepover to anyone else, okay Malfoy?"

"Sleepover? But we didn't get to have a pillow fight in our underwear, so it couldn't have been a real one."

Hermione smiled despite herself. "That's not what girls do at sleepovers." She had finally reached the edge of his bed and slid off of it.

"In that case, it would seem that I've been disastrously misinformed," he commented with a smile. Hermione liked that smile. "Your secret's safe with me, Grangie," he said more seriously.

"Thank you." She turned to leave, but stopped. If she didn't ask him now this question would bother her until the day she died, so she pulled out her Gryffindor courage and blushed her way through the question: "I didn't… say anything while I slept did? Because sometimes I sleep talk," she lied, "random things that don't always make sense out of the context of the dream, but then dreams often do not make any sense or reflect the reality of—" she was rambling. Luckily Draco cut her off.

"Quiet as a mouse," he said, although there was a flicker of something that passed his eyes. "As far as I could tell," he added quickly, "I was asleep too, of course."

"Right. I just wanted to… clear that up. Because sometimes I sleep talk and…" Hermione cleared her throat. "So, I'm going to go, I usually visit my parents on the weekend…"

"Thank you for the sleepover Miss Granger. I do hope that the next time there are more pillow fights and less clothing," he said with a smile.

"Where's your balcony?" she asked, trying to keep her blush at bay.

"Ah, right." Draco stood, still holding Nymphadora and walked out into a very large and open living room. Hermione noticed that he had a large fireplace on one end and a massive flat screen TV at the other. There were two large sectional sofas placed back to back. At the other end of the living room was a hallway, but Draco lead her to the balcony on the right, so Hermione did not know where it lead.

"Why do you have a television?" she asked, sounding somewhat accusatory.

"Hmm?"

"A television. A Muggle invention… How did you even get one?" she demanded staring at its size, which like everything else about Draco seemed very excessive.

"Oh that," he set Nymphadora down and she stalked away down the dark hallway. "Mack introduced me to it. Very interesting what those Muggles come up with. Have you heard of PlayStation?" he asked, his eyes suddenly alight.

"You have?"

"I have. It's apparently all the rage with Muggle teenagers. I own a few games." He pointed at a shelf below his TV. A 'few' games meant at least fifty.

"You play… PlayStation. _You_?"

"Yeah," Draco said scratching his head. Hermione remarked that his hair was somewhat curly after his shower and went in every direction.

"Pigs can fly," she said under her breath.

"Surely you have played before."

"Surprisingly, no," she lied.

"I suppose that you're no good at it then?" he teased, seeing right though her lie.

"I—that's not—of course I am!" she spluttered, lying through her teeth.

Draco smiled, clearly not believing her.

"Wait a minute!" Hermione suddenly remembered that she was supposed to going out for a _girl's_ night last night. Why did Draco and the others show up? "Pansy," she muttered darkly.

"I know, what are we going to do to get back at that scheming little witch?" Draco asked conspiratorially.

"How did you know where we would be last night? Why were you with Harry and Ron?" Hermione questioned.

Draco smoothed his Quidditch sweater and avoided her eyes. "Why?" he asked lightly.

"It was supposed to be a girl's night out…But Pansy…and Ginny…" Hermione bit her lip, thinking. "Answer my question."

"It might have been Pansy who invited us all out," Draco said quickly.

"But why…" Hermione paced slowly.

"Well, I think she fancies herself a match matcher," Draco began, making Hermione blush; considering the fact that she had slept in the same bed as him last night, Pansy wasn't doing such an awful job. "And there's Theo and Hannah who have been making eyes at each other for the past few months…"

"That's true…" she said doubtfully. An image of Hannah and Theo fused together by the lips invaded her mind from the night before. "It just seems odd that she would invite all of us, and then there's Ginny…why did Ginny want to go so badly?" Hermione asked herself.

"Granger, you're thinking way too hard into this. Pansy wanted a one night stand, which she got, and she wanted Theo and Hannah to hook up, which she also got. Pansy likes a party."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, suspecting that Draco was trying to make her forget about this, which just made her want to know all the more what Pansy's motives were.

"But seriously, what are we going to do to pay her back for making us drink whatever it was that she gave us last night?" Draco asked.

"Good question, Malfoy. I'm still thinking about that." Hermione walked toward his sliding glass door and opened it. "Well. I'll see you tomorrow at Amicus? I think I will start at the Ministry and take out their incarceration information."

Draco nodded and watched her apparate onto her balcony and disappear inside her flat. He walked over to his TV and turned it on. He powered up his PlayStation 2 and continued to play "Rune: Viking Warlord." Nymph hopped back onto his lap and purred quietly. _What a morning_, he thought rubbing his neck. Neck—Hermione's neck. He had kissed her neck last night at the club. _I can't believe I almost forgot that_. And they were about to kiss before Hannah interrupted them. They had also danced together for the better part of the evening. Danced very closely together. Draco pondered this revelation. He decided to push it to the back of his mind and forget the feeling of her pressed up against him intimately whispering 'yes' into his ear (or at least he tried to forget that feeling, needless to say how effective _that_ was), seeing as Hermione would never bring it up, _and she would not want a repeat of it_, he thought his heart panging lightly.

He looked down at his chest perplexed. "Stop that," he ordered. He continued to play his video game, thoroughly disturbed with his current emotional state.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** This is just a friendly reminder that this story takes place starting September 2001 and, as such, Muggle technology and pop culture is from 2001. So it will seem outdated.

I will not update for probably a week-ish because I am going away from internet access for a while. Sorry! But I will upload a few chapters today. :)

Thanks to everyone who has followed and favourited this story!

* * *

Chapter Nine: Cross-examinations

Hermione added Hiddleston, Christopher to her list of criminals incarcerated for use of the _Cruciatus_ and closed her large book with a thump. She saw Draco jump slightly from his seat across from hers because of the noise.

"How many names do you have?" he inquired looking up from his own stack of sinister looking books.

"One hundred and thirty six. I excluded any of the entries that we older than two hundred years old. I am going to dash off a letter to Azkaban asking for a cross-reference list to see which of these prisoners are still living. I'll continue to read _The Finer Points of Torture_ once I'm done sending it," she said with more enthusiasm than most people could understand.

Several hours later Draco cleared his throat causing Hermione to look up at him. "I've found something interesting. So we know that the wand movement can affect the lasting effects of the curse, but we are still unsure how. This book also suggests that the relationship between the curse caster and the victim plays a large role in the after effects as well as the effectiveness of the curse. Listen," he cleared his throat and read: "'_The Cruciatus, being one of the most powerful and effective torture spells, should only be used by those who possess the skill necessary. Nothing is more frustrating than having your would-be informer driven crazy before he has confessed all of his secrets (especially because the effects of this marvelous curse are irreversible according to my study of it). That being said, one of my masters always warned me about using the curse on those with whom I shared any form of strong relationship, especially those of blood relation. He warned me that the curse changed depending on this relationship and even cautioned that its effects could be transferred onto the caster if cast on someone of great importance. My first successful Cruciatus was when…_' He then goes on to describe in detail his first time casting of the curse, I would rather not re-read that bit," Draco said frowning.

Hermione was biting her lip. She took her hair out of its ponytail and let it fall around her shoulders, thinking. She tied her hair back up into a tight bun and tucked a loose strand behind her ear. "It doesn't say anything else? Are the effects stronger on a blood relation? What about a husband or wife? Does the caster feel the torture the same way that the victim does, or is it lesser? Does the pain come later?" Hermione asked as she began to jot down these questions.

"I'm not sure, but he does describe the thought process that he goes through when casting the curse. To paraphrase, he always draws upon a memory of deep anger for him and lets it invade his senses. He then concentrates his anger into the curse. He says that before each time he pronounced the incantation he felt his body go numb as all of his hatred was transferred into his wand."

"I can't imagine having enough anger to want someone else to suffer to that degree," Hermione said after a moment of silently writing notes.

"I can," Draco said quietly, his eyes glued to the book.

Hermione looked at him uncertainly, knowing that this conversation was going to happen sooner rather than later. She reached across the large library table and gently grabbed his hand (Healing 103, comforting touch often helped terminal patients or patients who were otherwise distressed). "Draco, you haven't…you haven't cast the _Cruciatus_ before have you?"

He looked up at her, his eyes ablaze. "Never," he said fiercely.

"Too bad," she said pulling her hand back and returning to writing notes.

"Excuse me?" Draco asked confused.

"Well if you had then we would have first-hand experience of how it feels to cast the curse. I've already asked Harry and he—"

"Potter's cast the _Cruciatus_ before?"

"Yeah, but not successfully, he didn't have enough hatred in him, he barely stung Bellatrix."

"Shame, that... She always used to have a faraway look in her eyes whenever she came back from…torturing people," Draco commented, staring at the table again.

Hermione reached her hand across the table and held his again. The warmth that invaded her body whenever they touched returned. She began to wonder about this, most people are warm, but Draco always made her body physically heat up. She frowned and mentally filed that away for something to consider later. "I want you to know that it is not your fault. Everything that Bellatrix did to her victims… to-to me," Hermione stuttered over the last bit, "was not your fault. It was her fault," she said sternly. "And anything that you can remember her saying, anything at all may help us," she reminded him gently.

She was gripping his hand tightly by then and a tear rolled down her cheek as she tried to push the sounds and images that she resolutely ignored out of her mind. She counted back from ten and took three deep breaths. Her head hurt. Hermione pulled her hand from his and took a sip from her water bottle, wiping away the few tears that had fallen against her will. _I am stronger than her. I am stronger than this_. She pulled out her glasses with shaky hands and placed them on her face.

Draco watched her with wary eyes. He rubbed his face and messed up his hair. He pulled her warm hand back into his and looked her square in the eyes. "I'm so sorry Hermione."

"Draco I know—"

"No, just listen," he commanded cutting her off resolutely. "I am so, so sorry. I… I wish I were stronger, I wish I could have been braver. I wanted to… I had my doubts about my father's blood supremacy ever since you started besting me at every subject in school. I didn't understand. How could a Muggleborn be better than a pureblood, a Malfoy? It didn't make sense. My father had told me for as long as I could listen that I was better than everyone. And I believed it. I was a little shit," he chuckled darkly, "Hell, I still am. But that doesn't excuse the war. Dumbledore… he…" Draco's voice shook. "I could have changed sides. But I hesitated too long, then Bellatrix and Snape… I could have done _something_ when you were captured." Hermione began to protest that his lie saved their lives. "Sure, I lied. But I didn't stop Bellatrix from—" Hermione's hand shook in his. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. His pulled his hand out of hers and his head fell into his hands.

Hermione was trembling slightly. She counted back from ten again taking care to breathe deeply. "I know what you did, Draco," she said finally. Her quiet voice was amplified by the silence of the library.

"I don't know what—" he mumbled.

"It worked. At least a bit."

"No it didn't. Or I would be dead," he disagreed, head still in his hands.

"It did. Or I would be in the mental ward beside the Longbottoms."

Draco raised his head from his hands slightly. "It worked?"

Hermione nodded.

"But. H-how? Because, in all the books I've read since that day there has never been any instance in which it has worked."

"I've never understood it either. But you helped me Draco. You helped me keep my sanity. I don't know how or what you did, but I owe you more than you know."

Draco finally raised his head from his hands, his eyes were watery. "I have no idea either, my wand moved of its own accord. All I could think was how much I wanted to help. To stop _her_."

Hermione, for her part, had several tears falling down her face. She wiped them away defiantly. "If someone told me in sixth year that I would be crying with you in a library I would have sent them to the hospital wing," Hermione chuckled trying to lighten the mood. "Thank you," she said again. "Okay, enough of that," she closed _The Finer Points of Torture_ with a resounding boom. "Want to order in again? Cooking takes so long and I'm starving!"

Draco took a few breaths and wiped his eyes. "Can I order this time?"

"You don't have a phone," Hermione reminded him as she began to pack her bag.

"We can grab one on the way to my flat," Draco suggested with an innocent smile on his face.

Hermione still felt emotional from their little heart to heart and decided to humour him. How bad could taking Malfoy shopping in Muggle London be?

* * *

Bad.

"Malfoy put that down!" Hermione ordered as he played with an expensive looking cellphone.

"What is this, Granger?" he asked showing her said cellphone.

"Put it down!" she shouted across the store from the cash. Draco ignored her and started playing with it. "Sorry, one moment," Hermione said throwing a fake smile in the direction of the amused cashier, who, according to his plastic nametag, was Tom. He reminded Hermione vaguely of Peter Pettigrew. "Malfoy, you cannot play with every damn thing that you see in the store. If you break something you'll have to pay for it," she whispered harshly.

"What do you reckon this little gizmo is for?" he asked pulling out the antenna.

Hermione roughly took the phone from his hands and returned it to its display place. "Do not touch anything. I am trying to buy _you_ a phone here. You are worse than a child!" she huffed returning to the counter.

"Boyfriend not good with technology?" Tom asked as Draco shouted to Hermione "Grangie, look at this thing! It's called a mouse, but it looks nothing like a mouse. I hope it's not one of those things that change form." Draco suddenly had a look of mistrust on his face and placed the mouse back onto its display spot and backed away slowly.

Hermione grinned despite herself. "Something like that," Hermione said rolling her eyes as he jumped back from the BOSE speakers that turned on as he walked by. "How much do I owe you?"

Draco's arm snaked around her waist then and he pulled out his wallet. "No _dear_, it's my turn to pay," he said with a smirk on his face.

"Really, I do insist," Hermione said pushing him away. She held him at arm's-length ("Unhand me Granger!") and smiled at Tom as if nothing we amiss. "Sorry, how much was that again."

"Excuse my _girlfriend_," Draco said to Tom as if they were friends from way back, "she always insists on paying, one of those feminists, you know. But really it is my turn to pay, dear. It is only fair if we take turns."

"I'm not his girlfriend," she corrected, vainly trying to hold him at bay.

"She always does this whenever she's wrong so that people sympathise with her." Draco shook his head sadly. "We all know you're lying, dear. Who could resist this face?" he said smiling (although she would never admit it) quite handsomely.

"I am not your girlfriend!" She huffed.

"Really, she says that every other day, but let me tell you the makeup se—"

"Shut it Malfoy! You don't even know how to use—!" Hermione cut herself off, realising that she could not reveal that Draco knew nothing about Muggle money without him seeming very suspicious.

"I am capable of handing over a few notes to the kind gentleman," Draco insisted. He used his longer arms to push Hermione away from him and stepped up to the cash. "Sorry about that Tom," Draco said smiling down at the shorter man amicably. Here," he offered him two twenty pound notes, "keep the change, Tom." He winked and let Hermione go.

She stormed out of the shop.

"Good luck with that!" Tom called after them, a smile on his face. "Young love," he said to himself quietly with a fading smile on his face. Tom, you see, had recently ended a rather long relationship. But enough about him.

Hermione continued down the road, but Draco caught up with her quickly thanks to his long strides. He swung the phone around with a smile on his face.

"You paid almost double because you don't know how Muggle notes work. If you had just let me—"

"Easy Granger, I have more money than I need anyway."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"How do I set up this thingy with the Muggle authorities?" Draco questioned ignoring her anger.

"It's done through the Ministry. But I know the spell, so we don't have to contact them right away anyway."

"How do you know the spell? Isn't that sort of thing classified?"

Hermione avoided his gaze and coughed awkwardly.

"And they call you Miss Goody-two-shoes! How did you find it out?" he asked as they walked into the alley between their flats. Draco grabbed her upper arm and apparated them onto his balcony. He led her inside and they both sat down on the couch.

"Someone told me," Hermione said with a blush on her face.

"Someone?" Draco questioned trying to get the response out of her. "Why did they tell you?"

"Because I asked nicely."

Draco laughed. "Just tell me, Granger. I know that you broke rules in school all the time. And Dumbledore always let you get away with it," he added bitterly. "It's not like anyone will get you in trouble, you're Hermione Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes, something that she seemed to do a lot in Draco's presence.

"Fine let me guess. You're best friends with the person in charge of Muggle technologies at the Ministry? No… because Weasley retired and Hemsworth replaced him," Draco eyes lit up. "He likes you, doesn't he, Hemsworth?"

Hermione blushed in response and took the phone out of the bag so that she could start to set it up. She began to scour his living room for the phone jack that all Muggle flats came with.

"I'll take that as a yes," Draco said triumphantly following her around his living room.

"Where's your phone jack?" she questioned. "It'll be slightly raised from the wall with a small rectangular hole in it."

"I wondered what that thing was. It's in the office." Draco led her there. "So what did you do? Flirt with him? Promise him a date for the spell?"

"Please." Hermione got on all fours to plug in the phone cord which was conveniently located underneath Draco's large desk behind several stacks of books.

"I bet you just batted your lashes and said that you were so interested in Muggle technologies and how they can transfer over to the wizarding world."

"Well I am!" she exclaimed despite herself.

"Aha!" Draco smiled smugly. "Who would have thought that Hermione Granger would use her feminine wiles in order to _learn_." Draco scrunched his nose in distaste.

Hermione ignored him and launched into an explanation of how a phone works. "This cord always has to be plugged in," she demonstrated. She then moved her wand very quickly in an elaborate star shape. The cable glowed for a moment, then returned to its unattractive grey colour. A ten digit number appeared on the side of the red phone. "Okay, so it should be working. Pick up the phone," she instructed.

Draco picked up the entire thing.

"No the receiver," she showed him that he only needed the part that he spoke into. "Good. Do you hear a dial tone?"

"I hear and annoying tone, yes. I don't understand what it has to do with a dial."

"No, a dial tone means that you can dial a phone number."

"Of course, how could I be so silly," he said sarcastically. "Am I just going to listen to this terrible tone all night?"

Hermione refrained from rolling her eyes, barely. "See the buttons? In order to call someone you need to get their phone number beforehand. You then type in the number using those buttons. It will ring, and someone will answer or you will get an answering machine." Draco gave her a blank look. "We'll deal with answering machines later. Hermione instructed him to dial the Chinese place that she regularly ordered from.

Draco jumped and dropped the phone when it began ringing.

"Pick it up!" Hermione insisted.

He cautiously moved the phone back to his ear to hear someone speaking into it. He dropped the phone again. Hermione didn't restrain herself from rolling her eyes this time. She picked up the phone and ordered the same thing she always ordered (Chicken fried rice and chicken balls) for herself and Draco, but gave Draco's address (which he only gave up after she pleaded several times). She hung up the phone and sighed.

"That wasn't so bad was it?"

"Muggles come up with the strangest inventions," Draco said shaking his head.

"Oh and if you need to give your number to someone else, it's the one here on the side," she said indicating the number that had appeared when she cast the spell.

Draco scoffed, "Who's going to be calling me?"

Hermione shrugged and left his empty office to collapse back onto his heavenly sofa. She stretched out, only taking up two thirds of the large sofa. It was a long day; researching for hours about torture coupled with confession hour with Draco and the fact that she still had not fully recovered from Pansy's mystery concoction. Draco turned on the television and sat at the far end of the sofa as they waited for the food to arrive. He flipped through the channels until Hermione told him to stop on a cartoon that she had seen in theatres the year before with her family, "The Emperor's New Groove."

"What is this?" Draco asked unimpressed by her choice.

"It's funny, shut up," she said tiredly.

Draco threw a blanket and small pillow at her roughly. Hermione was going to shout at him, but instead thanked him and curled up underneath the soft covers and placed her head on the pillow with a contented sigh. She was just drifting off to sleep when a loud knock jolted her wide awake.

"Food!" Draco shouted happily. He grabbed his wallet and tossed it to Hermione. "Please show me, oh wise one, how to use this foreign currency."

Hermione chuckled at his dramatics. "Just read the notes, Malfoy. The person will tell you the total and you add them up. You can add, right?"

"How did you know my one weakness was simple mathematics?" he said with a smile.

Hermione accompanied him to the front door anyway. On her way down the hallway she noted that he had a dining room, kitchen, an _exercise room_, and of course the office that she had installed the phone into. Once at the large door, she handed Malfoy his wallet and watched him count out the notes slowly. The delivery woman tapped her foot loudly as Draco counted. He handed her the bills then a generous tip and winked at her before grabbing the food and slamming the door in her face. He trotted into the living room happily.

Their little confession time in the library seemed to have lifted a large weight off of his shoulders.

* * *

Hermione woke up several hours later to Draco swearing softly at his television screen. She was beneath the soft throw blanket again and her head was comforted by Draco's lavish pillow. She was laying on her back with her legs across his thighs. She was once again uncomfortably warm. _When did I fall asleep?_ Draco did not notice that she had woken and continued to curse angrily as his character died again. The only light in the room was the television screen making Hermione wonder what hour it was. She was suddenly aware of the fact that Nymphadora was purring as she lay on Hermione's head, effectively trapping her again for the second time in two days. _Sleeping at Draco's is dangerous_, Hermione thought. Then she wondered why on earth she had _ever_ slept at _Malfoy's_.

Hermione shifted her legs slightly. "Your cat is holding me hostage again, Malfoy," she grumbled.

"Not now Granger, I'm in the middle of a mission," Draco said without looking at her.

Hermione grunted. She wanted to roll onto her side, but was still unsure if Nymphadora could be trusted. "What time is it?"

"I'm still on the mission Granger," Draco reminded her.

"Why didn't you wake me?" she asked as her fatigue cleared from her mind ever so slightly.

"Granger," Draco warned.

"Yeah, yeah, you're on a mission. Whoop dee do." Hermione closed her eyes grumpily.

"That film that you insisted that we watch was utter rubbish," he commented after a few moments of silence.

"It was not," Hermione argued feebly, already half asleep again.

"It made no sense. A llama that talks?"

"It's a family movie…" she muttered.

"And—"

"Aren't you on a mission?" she reminded him. She did not hear his response because she was fast asleep again.

She was woken by someone licking her face, luckily it wasn't Malfoy. She cracked open an eye to see Nymphadora purring happily. She meowed loudly at Hermione. Hermione sat up suddenly, causing the exotic cat to fall off of the couch silently. She looked up at Hermione and stuck up her tail and stalked away. _Well at least she didn't attack me_. There was a faint light coming in through the windows and Hermione realised that it was very early in the morning. Her mouth was uncomfortably dry and her neck hurt. She gathered the covers around her body and stumbled onto Draco's balcony. She apparated onto her balcony and stumbled onto her bed and collapsed there, still engulfed in Draco's lavish throw blanket.

* * *

Draco met Hermione at the mainland Azkaban office. He had transfigured his hair light brown and widened his nose. He was wearing non-descript black robes. Hermione had transfigured her hair to be short like Pansy's and as blond as Hannah's. She had given herself freckles and changed her eyes to be green. Her robes were equally as non-descript as his own. She was wearing heels, he noted with surprise.

"Good morning, Granger," he greeted.

"Make sure not to call me that inside, Malfoy," she responded lightly.

"Same goes to you. I am Rogers and you are Jones as soon as we enter the prison."

"As we discussed before, I will be interrogating—"

"I believe we agreed that it would be a joint effort," he corrected. "_I_ am the ex-Death Eater here. I know how they think."

"Need I remind you how dismal of a Death Eater you were?"

"Well, they don't know that. I'm Rogers, remember?"

"Then how—"

"Shut up, Granger." She shot him a dirty look. "We're interrogating them together. Now tell the lovely lady who we are here to see today so that we can be escorted over to the island of fun." He gestured at the receptionist who was anything but 'lovely'.

Two guards side-along apparated them into the prison a few minutes later. As they ascended the rickety lift Draco could hear loud shouting and pleading from each floor that they past. They exited the lift on the fourteenth floor. Officer O'Donoghue led them to Augustus Rookwood's cell. Hermione cast Draco a significant look. Office O'Donoghue walked a few steps away and turned his back. _Corrupt_, Draco thought in passing. He thanked his lucky stars that Potter kept him out of this place. Rookwood was in the far corner of his small cell. He was so filthy he was hard to distinguish from the filthy floor. A strong smell of urine emanated from his cell. Rookwood himself was frail and had long stringy hair hanging in front of his face.

Hermione cast a quick charm so that O'Donoghue could not hear what they were about to discuss.

"Augustus Rookwood?" she asked stepping up to the bars of his cage.

He did not respond.

"We are from a group of people who we believe have similar interests as yours," Draco ventured. Hermione shot him a sharp look.

"And what would those be?" Rookwood responded with a gravelly voice.

"Preserving the old ways," Draco approached the bars slowly.

Rookwood raised his unbathed face. "Prove it."

Draco slowly lifted up his left sleeve and showed his mostly faded Dark Mark. Draco noticed Hermione flinch slightly and prayed that Rookwood didn't. A smile tugged at the lips of the filthy man in front of him.

"We have a few questions that might help us in our mutual quest," Draco added.

Rookwood nodded slowly, but did not say anything.

"We are planning to take out some key points here in London. We have hostages that can give us the information that we need, but we cannot make them talk," Hermione said quickly.

"We have of course, already used the usual methods, but we fear that anymore and the blood traitors lose their minds and be useless."

Rookwood nodded again, a grin on his face. "You think that you can trick me into helping you blood traitors?"

Hermione took half a step back, but Draco held his ground. "How dare you accuse us!" she said, trying to cover up her reaction.

"I thought I already proved whose side we are on."

"How do I know that that's not a fake," Rookwood grumbled pointing at Draco's now covered arm.

Draco rolled his sleeve back up and shoved his arm into the cage. "Examine it. See what only real Death Eaters would know is missing."

Rookwood eyed him but heaved himself unsteadily to his feet after a moment's pause. He put his filthy hands onto Draco's clean arm. Draco immediately felt the need to have a shower, but did not recoil from Rookwood's slimy touch. Rookwood turned his arm left and right and traced the vile tattoo with his cracked fingernail. He nodded and leaned against the bars of his cramped home.

"So what's this plan then?"

"As I said we are planning something huge. But we cannot reveal what in case anyone here over hears us. Or if they were to interrogate you," Draco said quickly.

"Of course, of course. What about blondie here?" Rookwood asked indicating Hermione. "She didn't show me a sign of her loyalty."

"She is my wife. She was never marked because she was pregnant during the war. Now she can make up for her earlier weakness."

Hermione blushed hotly and lowered her head. Draco assumed that she was silently cursing him. Rookwood nodded again.

"The key is in what you want them to feel," he said after a pause. "If you put too much into it they won't be able to handle it. Look at Bellatrix's victims. Practice on one of the ones that are less important," he suggested with a shrug of his shoulders, "that way if they go bonkers you have a second chance. Plus seeing their companion lose it is a great motivator."

Draco clenched his fists to restrain himself. "Thank you. You've have been much help. And we may be seeing you sooner than you expect," Draco shot Rookwood a significant look. "Tell all of those who are still loyal that the tides are changing." Draco walked away and got rid of the sound barrier with a wave of his wand.

He and Hermione walked briskly to the lift. Once inside with Officer O'Donoghue Hermione burst out, "Your wife?"

"It is the most plausible reason."

She glared at him. "Officer O'Donoghue, would you be able to bring us to prisoner Jugson?" she asked her voice laced with anger.

"Of course Ms. Jones," he responded with a smirk. It was obvious that he knew they were using fake names, but as long as he didn't know who they actually were there was no threat.

The next three prisoners that they visited (Jugson, Mulciber Jr., and Gibbon) proved to be unhelpful. Jugson refused to speak to them and even spat at Draco. Mulciber did not seem to be aware of their presence at all. Gibbon did not believe that they were neo-Death Eaters and refused to speak to them, even after Draco tried to have him examine his Dark Mark.

Hermione and Draco headed back to the mainland less than an hour later. Draco _apparated_ them to his flat.

"Well that was enlightening," Hermione said plopping herself onto Draco's sofa.

Nymphadora entered the room and circled Draco's feet. He waved his wand and heard her bowl filling up in the kitchen. She trotted off happily. Draco felt filthy from his visit. "I am going to have a shower. If you want to meet back in twenty minutes we can write notes and continue to study here. There's not much point of going all the way to Amicus if we're not even going to use their books."

Hermione stood. "Good idea. I felt disgusting after stepping one foot into that place." She scrunched up her nose and Draco felt the urge to kiss it. Luckily he was a few feet away from her and did not act upon that impulse. Hermione disappeared from his balcony and Draco stripped off his clothes and hopped into his steaming shower.

While he was showering, for some unknown reason, the fact that Hermione was currently doing the exact same thing popped into his head. Standing under a stream of boiling water. Naked. Dripping. Wet. Soaping herself—Draco was unaware that he was touching himself until he thought that she was probably doing the same in this unrealistic fantasy of his. He let go of himself in shock and turned his shower to blast freezing cold water all over himself. _These distracting thoughts of Hermione naked need to stop invading my mind_, he thought as he toweled himself off.

Draco walked into his room and into his walk in closet, a towel tied around his waist. He threw his Quidditch jumper, an old pair of slacks, and some boxers onto his bed. As he dropped his towel and stepped into his boxers he heard a loud shriek from behind him. Apparently he had left his bedroom door open and apparently Hermione had let herself into his flat. _She must have left the balcony doors open_. He glanced behind himself and saw that she had dropped her books and turned to face away from his previously naked body. The steamy images that Draco had just been imagining cropped up in his mind again. He pushed them away aggressively.

"You could knock, Granger," he called over his shoulder as he pulled on his jumper.

"You could change in the bathroom, or your closet that's big enough to house a small family! Or close your bedroom door!" she called back.

Draco walked into the living room, now fully clothed. "I know you liked what you saw," he winked at her as he summoned his pile of books from his office to the living room. Her wet hair was once again brown and curly and her eyes were returned to their proper brown. _Good_. _No, not good_, Draco reminded himself, _I like blondes better, not brunettes who are too smart for their own good_.

"Please," she rebuffed.

"Please take off my clothes again?" he teased, starting to lift the corner of his jumper.

"Malfoy!" Hermione shouted.

He laughed and sat down on the ground beside his books. "Shall we?"

"You're not even going to apologise?"

"You walked in on me, Granger. You should be the one apologising."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sank into his sofa instead of responding. She pulled out a quill and parchment paper from her never ending beaded bag. "So, as I thought, one's sentiments while casting the curse will affect the degree to which the victim suffers. However, I believe that Rookwood was suggesting that you can almost envision the effects of the curse and they will happen."

"If that's true then Bellatrix often wanted people to go mad."

"Well, our dear Bella is a special case because she was pretty far gone herself," Hermione muttered. She put her glasses on and continued writing notes without looking up at Draco.

Draco watched Hermione jot down several points that ended in question marks. She frowned lightly and pushed a wet strand of her hair out of her face. It wasn't until Nymphadora hopped into his lap that he realised that he had been staring at her for several minutes. Draco summoned his own notes and opened the book that he was currently reading. However he was having trouble concentrating on how to properly torture a Muggle with Hermione only a few feet away from him, and not because of the gruesome content, but because she was so distracting. He kept finding that he himself staring at her without realising.

"If the caster imagines the consequences of the curse, could that mean that we need the caster in order to help us create a counter curse. Or to perform it?" He asked breaking the silence. Although he was legitimately interested in the question, he really just wanted an excuse to talk to her again.

Hermione raised her eyes from her book. "I think so." She closed it slowly. "This is no help. I think our best chance at success is to keep interrogating prisoners. And we should consider researching the medicine used with patients who are no longer sane. We also need to start categorising the different side effects and what better place to start than St. Mungo's? We can visit Azkaban every morning, then go to St. Mungo's to speak with patients and finish here, or I suppose at mine—either or—, researching."

"This reading does seem to be leading us nowhere fast," Draco commented. "Shall we meet Mack in the Staff Lounge for lunch? We can head over to the long term care ward after that."

Hermione smiled widely. "That sounds great! I haven't seen Ernie in forever. Maybe we can weasel out of him who he's secretly seeing," her eyes sparkled at the possibility.

"Whoever she is, she sure takes up a lot of his time."

"I bet they spend most of their time in bed," she commented.

Draco's mouth fell open. "I think you've been spending too much time with me," he said after clearing the image of Hermione in his bed, naked, out of his mind. "Shall we walk to St. Mungo's?"

Hermione nodded and they both walked onto his spacious balcony. Draco entwined his fingers with her, which probably was not necessary seeing as she was perfectly capable of Apparating on her own and transported them to the alley between their two buildings. He probably could have let go of her hand right away, but he didn't.

Hermione was standing directly in front of him, only a foot away. She was looking up at him. "Thanks," she sounded somewhat breathless, but apparition tended to do that. Draco's hand was tingling where it was touching hers.

"Anytime," he said, trying to sound suave and unsure if he had succeeded because all he could think about was their entwined hands and how much he wanted to pull her closer to him by them. He stepped away from her trying to empty his mind.

Hermione cleared her throat, a faint blush had risen to her cheeks. She began to walk down the alley in the direction of St. Mungo's. Draco caught up with her after a moment of staring at her in her beat up Muggle pants and boring long sleeve shirt that she somehow made look amazing. _I'm in trouble_, Draco thought as his hand continued to send sparks up his arm from their brief hand holding. He flexed his hand. _Big trouble_.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: Partners in Crime

Hermione was about to walk through the main entrance to St. Mungo's when Draco grasped hold of her hand to stop her. She looked at him questioningly.

"Okay Granger, once we walk into the lobby you take a quick right and walk along the wall. I'll zig zag my way to the staff lift which you will have opened by the time I get there."

"And why would I do that?"

"To avoid what's-her-face with the blindingly bright smile. If we go in together we are too much of a target."

Having not been at the hospital for a week, Hermione forgot all about the overly enthusiastic Welcome Witch who insisted on directing them to the proper floor. Hermione avoided her at all costs. Apparently Draco—no _Malfoy_—did too.

"Fair point. You're on Malfoy."

The duo walked into the foyer and separated. Hermione jogged to the lift, head down. She opened it with a wave of her wand and looked around for Malfoy. The witch was following him as doggedly as Draco was avoiding her.

"Sir, may I help you?" she asked helpfully. Hermione cringed. "Sir, you can't use that elevator. It's for staff only!"

Draco slid through the doors just as they were about to close and shouted at the happy employee, "I work here, you dolt!" The doors slid shut just before she reached them. Hermione laughed at her harried face.

She held up her hand in the air to high five Draco. He stared at her raised hand. "Are you going to hit me, Granger?"

"You're supposed to hit your hand against mine."

Draco's face twisted with distaste.

"Or not…" she began to lower her hand. _He is impossible_.

Draco stopped its descent with his left hand and high fived her while locking his grey eyes with her brown ones. He let their hands drop. "Not too shabby, Granger. Although you practically left me for dead back there."

"I left you! You're the one that took two hours to get across a lobby."

"Did you not see the crowd of children in my way? Would you have preferred that I kicked them out my way?"

"I would have preferred if you could own up to your own weaknesses instead of blaming children. _I_ had to avoid an elderly woman with a cane that shot fire!"

"That sounds traumatising, Granger. My apologies. Next time I'll curse whoever gets in my way," he retorted.

"What do you reckon her name is?" Hermione asked as they exited the lift and walked to the Staff Lounge.

"My money is on Glenda. There's something about her hair that doesn't move that just screams 'Glenda'."

Hermione laughed and took a few sandwiches off of the first floating tray that she encountered. She sighed happily, immediately feeling at ease as soon as she crossed through the door. _I love this place_.

* * *

"Ernie, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I'm sure whoever you like is an amazing man or woman. Now please tell us who he or she is," Hermione insisted. She was seated in the Staff Lounge in her favourite Hogwarts chair near the roaring fireplace—Fall was starting to rear its chilly head.

Ernie avoided her eyes. "It's not that _I _don't want to tell you."

"She—" began Draco.

"Or he!" Hermione interrupted. "Please be inclusive with your language Draco."

Ernie laughed, but did not clarify the gender of his mystery partner.

"This person whom you are frequenting, are they a Muggle?" Draco asked.

"Why does that matter?" Hermione demanded, suddenly angry.

"It completely matters," he countered.

"Oh really, all that matters is this person's magical status?" she demanded with her fists clenched.

Draco rolled his eyes which made Hermione even angrier (_How dare he roll his eyes at me, the arrogant prick!_). "Obviously not Granger, but it would impact the way that Mack wants to introduce us to them."

_Good point_. "Well, Ernie knows that I would be more than okay if he were to have a Muggle significant other. And he knows that I could easily hide the fact that magic exists if necessary." She directed this statement more toward Ernie, hoping that he might open up.

"Of course I know that both of you would not have an issue with that," Ernie said with a smile. "I'm still not going to tell you. Can you just let it go?"

"But…" Hermione whined. She tried another tactic, "I'm worried about you, Ernie, I never see you anymore."

"I never see you!" he countered. "Ever since you and Draco were demoted you are never around the hospital anymore. All you two do is spend time together."

Hermione blushed lightly. "That's not—well we're here now."

"For how long?"

"We wanted to have lunch with you," Hermione was grasping at straws.

"More like interrogate me," he sulked.

"Oh bullshit Mack," Draco said. "You're just putting on this angry act so that we'll stop asking you about your mysterious fuck buddy."

"Draco!" Hermione scolded.

"You know I'm right, Granger."

"Alright, alright," Ernie admitted defeat. "You two will be the first to know the moment we make it public."

Hermione smiled triumphantly. "Take your time," she said, hoping that he would not listen to her advice and decide to confess right then and there.

"So how is your research going?" Ernie asked through a mouth full of food.

"Please chew, Mack," Draco said frowning.

"It's going," Hermione said. "It's harder to find information than I thought that it would be. Most people aren't willing to share."

"Or are dead," Draco added.

"I would prefer not to talk about it," Hermione said, "It's rather dull, and in truth disturbing. We are researching an unforgivable curse after all. What has been happening around the hospital?"

"You know Stacy?" Hermione nodded. "His wife is pregnant and Uptown's cat died last week."

"Not Gregory!" Hermione said in horror.

"The only."

"Calm down, Granger, it's not your cat," Draco commented.

She shot him a dirty look. "I'll have to send my condolences."

Ernie recounted the drama within the hospital. Draco seemed to have zoned out, as he usually did whenever Hermione and Ernie talked about anything that wasn't strictly medicine. Hermione missed Ernie's upbeat presence and decided that she would have lunch with him every day again. Last week had been too full of charged silences between her and Malfoy. The lunch ended too quickly and Hermione accompanied Draco to the long term resident ward on the fourth floor.

They decided to start by getting a full list of patients who has suffered the _Cruciatus_. However, both of the Healers wanted to start with the Longbottoms. They started by speaking with the Healer that usually attended to them.

"Every day we give them pain killer potions, we tried giving them memory charms for a while, but then they would have flashbacks to being tortured, so we stopped that. They are remarkably able considering who cast the curse," the old woman explained.

"Is that all that you give them?" Hermione questioned, surprised.

"They have residual pain, but the medicine community still does not know what region of the brain exactly is affected by the _Cruciatus_, it is not the normal pain receptors. As such we haven't the foggiest of how to try and restore patients to their previous functioning states."

"Is there any way that we classify victims based on their injuries?" Draco questioned.

"We do not have enough to do so effectively," the nurse said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Most people who are tortured do not live, especially those from the war. That being said, we use the usual classification system for injuries that range from fully functioning to comatose."

Hermione was taking notes quickly.

"As with any trauma, and as you will see with the Longbottoms, there can often be memory loss, chronic pain, reverting to childlike behaviour, and a disconnection from the world around them. Please try to be patient with them," with that she walked down the hallway calling after Gilderoy Lockhart who had escaped from his room again.

Hermione took a deep breath and walked into the room with Draco by her side.

The Longbottoms proved useless as they were too drugged and out of it to answer any questions. Hermione tried not to cry in frustration. She felt as if they were getting nowhere on this research project. Hermione left the ward angry at Bellatrix Lestrange for altering the Longbottoms' lives forever.

* * *

Draco contemplated the inside of his fridge. It was mostly empty. He closed it and turned on his stainless steel kettle. He walked back to the fridge and opened it again. He groaned. He hadn't been grocery shopping in a long time because he always ate dinner with Hermione. Everything he did these days involved the witch. _To hell with it_. He apparated onto her balcony and knocked on the sliding doors crisply.

Hermione appeared out of her bedroom, hair dripping wet with a towel wrapped around her. _Bloody hell_. She waved him inside and disappeared back into her room. _Why am I always aware when she is changing?_ Draco thought as images from several weeks ago of her lace clad body invaded his mind for the _n_th time. He sat down on her loveseat and pat Crookshanks behind the ears as he waited for her to emerge from her bedroom. He didn't even try to dispel the images of her naked body from his mind.

"I'm happy you dropped by," Hermione said as she emerged in the same pair of pyjamas that she had worn when she stayed the night at his.

"Why's that?" his voice cracked slightly as he spoke, but she either didn't notice or didn't dare to ask.

She started to braid her (slightly more dry) hair as she stood in front of him. _Merlin she's adorable_. Draco frowned away that thought. "I realised that I have absolutely no food. Do you want to get take out again?"

"You read my mind Granger."

"Can we eat here though, I feel bad that I keep abandoning Crookshanks."

"You could always bring him over to mine," Draco suggested without thinking through the ramifications of having the yellow haired monster tromping through his pristine flat.

"You don't mind do you?"

"Not at all," he heard himself saying despite the fact that he minded greatly.

"It's just easier because your flat is so much bigger. And you have a television. I have no idea how you got such a big one."

"I have my ways."

"I'm just going to grab my purse; I wanted to edit my column for the _Quibbler_ this week." Hermione disappeared into her room again.

Draco noticed her own home phone on the table beside her armchair. He quickly walked over to it and read the ten digit number on the side. He committed it to memory. He rationalised doing so because it would be faster to phone her about their research instead of using an owl. Not because he wanted to be able to contact her just to talk about her day.

Hermione walked back into the living room and Draco took a small side step away from her phone, trying to look innocent. She didn't even glance in his direction as she scooped up her large fur-ball of a cat and hefted it over her shoulder. She looked back at him then, "Shall we?" she held out her arm. Draco linked arms with her happily and apparated them onto his balcony.

Hermione held Crookshanks in front of her and said sternly, "No eating anything. No peeing on things. No fighting Nymphadora. No funny business, mister," she then kissed him on the nose and let him run loose.

"Your cat better not destroy my flat, Granger," he muttered.

"He wouldn't dare," she reassured him, although it sounded more like she was trying to reassure herself. Draco sat down on his sectional in the corner while Hermione stretched out across the other two thirds of it. She propped herself into a sitting position with several of his numerous pillows.

"What do you want to eat?"

She opened her beaded bag and summoned a menu from the pizza place that they had ordered from once. "You can get whatever toppings you would like, but I want pineapple." She then pulled out a parchment and quill and began editing her column, effectively ignoring him.

Draco shook his head and walked into his office, menu clutched in hand. He succeeded in dialing the phone number and after much confusion over what 'dipping sauce' was, he managed to place their order. He sauntered back into the living room his recent victory painting his face.

Hermione was still editing her column and did not notice him at all. He decided to make tea instead of standing awkwardly in his living room staring at her. He returned with two mugs of piping hot tea. His black, hers with two sugars and one milk. He set her tea on his long black coffee table in front of her.

She didn't look up from her work. Draco cleared his throat. She glanced at him, then at the tea. "Oh! Thank you." She reached for it and took a sip. She closed her eyes and groaned softly. Draco had to physically restrain himself from attacking her lips when she made that noise in the back of her throat. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, she probably noticed his strained expression.

"Don't worry, Malfoy. It's perfect." Then she went back to ignoring his presence.

Not sure what he had been expecting, Draco sat down on the other end of his sofa and powered up his PS2. Nymphadora hopped onto his lap. A few seconds later Crookshanks jumped onto the couch beside him and began purring obnoxiously, as he was wont to do. Nymphadora climbed beside Crookshanks and licked behind his ears lightly. She then snuggled up to him and fell asleep. _At least those two are getting along_, Draco thought sullenly casting a look at Hermione who was muttering under her breath as she crossed out another line. He returned his eyes to his video game.

The food arrived shortly after and Hermione insisted that they watch another "family" movie, meaning animated and extremely predictable.

"Monsters Inc. is not predictable," she argued.

"Of course it is, that small child is going to—"

"Shush Malfoy, I've never seen the ending before!"

"I thought that it wasn't predictable."

"It isn't," she insisted.

Draco rolled his eyes. He did not change the channel even though he whole heartedly hated what he was watching. _What is she doing to me?_

A few hours later Hermione gathered up her things to leave and called Crookshanks over to her. Draco could have sworn that the cat raised his eyebrow at her.

"Crookshanks, come to mommy. It's time to go home," she tried calling him again after he ignored her.

"Apparently they like each other," Draco chuckled as Nymphadora walked in circles around Crookshanks and he reluctantly walked toward Hermione. Nymph meowed sadly.

"We'll have to get together for cat dates more often," Hermione suggested, Crookshanks firmly in her arms and Nymph circling her feet meowing demandingly.

Draco coughed awkwardly. "Sure," his voice cracked.

Hermione frowned in his direction, but didn't question his odd behaviour. "If you want to meet on my balcony tomorrow we can apparate to Azkaban together," she proposed.

"Right."

"Good night," she called over her shoulder before disappearing. He heard her balcony doors slide open and closed again as she entered her home.

Draco sighed and collapsed onto the sofa. Nymph climbed onto his chest and stared him in the eyes. "Why is she so pretty in her stupid elephant pyjamas?" Draco asked his cat. She stared back at him purring quietly. "No more eating dinner with her from now on. Deal?" Nymph meowed loudly. Draco lifted her off of him and retired to his bed for the evening.

Draco locked Nymph out of his room with a flick of his wand. He needed to relieve some tension and having his cat in the room would make things more than a little awkward. He let his mind become invaded with the images of Hermione that he had been failing to keep at bay for longer than he would care to admit. _I just need one good wank to get her out of my mind, then I go back to loving large breasted blondes_. Even as he said this to himself he knew it was a lie. He gripped himself firmly any way. He imagined her in the shower again and cried out her name in ecstasy far sooner than he would care to admit. In his defense, it had been a while. _I need to get laid_. Which had been the plan when Pansy convinced him to join them at the Muggle club, but he had somehow ended up dragging Granger home with him instead.

* * *

Draco began to cross the street, not realising that Hermione had continued on straight. He looked around for her and called, "Your flat is this way, Granger."

"I need to stop at the store," she called back, "I don't have any food in my fridge."

Hermione continued walking. She was surprised to be joined by Draco again. "I ate canned soup for dinner last night," he confessed.

The image of Draco Malfoy trying to open a can of soup brought a chuckle to her lips. The couple continued to walk in silence to the grocery store a block away from their respective flats. Hermione grabbed a shopping cart at the entry and proceeded to the produce section. Draco trailed after her.

"You know, you don't have to follow me," she reminded him. "You know how to shop in a grocery store, right?" she asked.

"Of course, Granger, I am not an invalid." Draco wandered away. But by the way he was eyeing some of the vegetables she figured that he had someone buy his food for him.

Hermione approached him as he stared at the price above a pile of butternut squash. "It's a good price," she said.

"I know that," he grabbed a squash and put it in her cart.

"You've never bought food before have you?" she asked as she steered the cart into the next aisle.

"I already—"

"Does your mother send you food?"

"No! Not for a few weeks now."

Hermione laughed. "Is ickle Draky finally leaving the nest?" she teased.

Draco glared at her as she grabbed a bag of onions. "Aren't you supposed to be the nice one of your little trio?"

"I'm the clever one."

"You can have more than one personality trait."

"Says Mr. I'm-sullen-all-the-time."

"Just teach me how to shop, Granger," he sulked.

Hermione smiled at his displeasure. "Well, you should always buy lots of fresh foods, the packaged stuff is full of unhealthy—" Hermione looked over at Draco who was holding up a box of Dunkaroos.

"What are these?"

"Those are bad, put them down."

Draco placed two boxes in the cart.

"I just said that those are bad—" she said, annoyed that he was intentionally going against her wishes.

"I would like to be the judge of that for myself."

"Then why do you want my help?"

"I want your _advice_."

"The difference being…"

"I heard your advice, I considered it, and I decided against it."

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest. Draco took the cart and pushed it down the dessert aisle. Despite her warning that one tub of ice cream would be more than enough he bought four. _At least he was nice enough to buy my favourite flavour_. She managed to direct him down the pasta and spice aisle. She was impressed by his knowledge of ingredients, he just had no clue how much he should be paying for them because price was never an issue for him. He threw enough pasta noodles and canned tomato sauce into the cart to feed a family of six for a month. He shoved a large bar of chocolate into her hands when she insisted that he return some of the food from their overflowing cart.

"Draco, bribing me is not going to work."

"Considering the fact that before you had the chocolate bar you were calling me 'Malfoy' and now you're calling me 'Draco', I would say that it's working nicely." He pushed the cart toward the cashier, leaving Hermione rooted to the spot with her mouth open.

"That's not—this is too much food!"

"Relax, Grangie. I'll pay for it," he pulled out his wallet stuffed full of Muggle money.

"You don't even know how to check out properly!" she called after him.

"Watch me," he winked at her over his shoulder and joined the queue with their ridiculously brimming cart.

Hermione jogged after him caught between amusement and annoyance. "At least let me separate my food from yours."

Draco seemed like he was about to argue, but instead smiled and said, "Fine. Ladies first."

Hermione was glad that he was seeing some reason. She began to sort through the cart for her small amount and groceries and placed them onto the conveyor belt. Draco began to do the same with his, without leaving a space between her purchases and his.

"No, Malfoy, you have to put this little divider in between."

"I told you that I am paying," he said tossing more food onto the belt.

"I am more than capable of paying for my groceries thanks," Hermione insisted, looking around for the partition.

"So that'll be together then?" the Jane, the elderly cashier asked.

"No!" Hermione shouted at the same time that Draco said "Yes ma'am!"

Hermione glared at him. "I can pay."

Draco pushed her out of the line with the cart. "Don't mind her, she's always throwing a fuss about me paying for her," he said to Jane.

"Malfoy I swear to God!" Hermione shouted as he handed over several bills to Jane.

"Please, darling put yourself to use and start bagging," he suggested.

Hermione was fuming, but one glance at the way Jane kept looking between the two of them with a smile plastered on her face showed her that she had lost this round.

"Of course, _dear_," she said with narrowed eyes. She aggressively shoved food into the bags that Jane handed her.

"Lover's spat?" Jane asked knowingly.

Hermione's face went crimson. She began to correct Jane, when Draco responded, "I forgot her mother's birthday last week. I'll never hear the end of it now."

Hermione growled in anger at his lies. Jane looked at her and shook her head. "We're all human dear. Don't let that get in the way of your relationship. You two obviously love one another."

Hermione looked at Draco who at least had the decency to blush. "I'm never taking you shopping again," she said through clenched teeth. She continued to shove food into bags, rather inefficiently, due to her anger and embarrassment.

"She says that every time," Draco joked. "Thank you so much Jane. Have a lovely day." Draco grabbed several bags from Hermione and said, "Shall we, _love_?"

She huffed and walked out of the store carrying four bags in each hand. Hermione walked ahead of Draco the short walk their shared alleyway. Once there she placed the bags on the ground and searched for her groceries with difficulty. Draco joined her a moment later, all that she had found was her eggs.

"Why do you keep telling cashiers that we're dating?" Hermione rounded on him.

"She was the one that suggested it," he said placing the bags around his feet.

"And you were the one to go along with it!" she accused.

"She's an old woman, Granger. Would you prefer that I ruin her last few months that she has left?"

"Oh, and us not being in love is going to what? Send her into heart failure? She doesn't even know us!" Hermione was clutching her carton of eggs tightly. She advanced on Malfoy pointing her eggs accusingly at his towering figure.

"Anything can happen to old people!" he shouted back, stepping away from his large pile of food.

"And I am capable of paying for my own food. I do not need your charity!" she shouted a foot away from him.

"Charity? I'm being nice Granger! I'm thanking you for helping me with all this Muggle rubbish!"

"Rubbish? Muggle rubbish!" She shook her head, disappointed.

"No! Not. Fuck."

Hermione looked into his eyes and turned away. She was only a step away when Draco pulled her back to him by her hand.

"I didn't mean for it to sound like that," he said earnestly.

"What did you mean for it to sound like then, Malfoy?" For some reason Hermione held onto his hand firmly, instead of letting go of it.

"I obviously don't think that Muggles are worth less than I am anymore! Why can't you see that?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do I seriously have to explain myself again Granger? I have _changed_." His grey eyes were stormy as they stared into hers intently.

"Fine. But that doesn't excuse you for buying my groceries!"

"I already told you, I was _thanking you_ for helping with the groceries," he said in a lower voice, leaning his head down toward her slightly.

"I didn't ask to be thanked," Hermione said softly. She became aware of how close their bodies were and the fact that she her hand was still entwined with his. She was still clutching her free range eggs.

"Well, I want to thank you," he whispered huskily his face descending toward her own.

Hermione was breathing heavily.

"What if I don't want you to," she murmured, his lips a hairsbreadth away.

Draco stopped. "Do you?" his breath was hot on her face.

Hermione, unsure of what was happening allowed the word "Yes" to slide past her lips before Draco closed the gap between them.

Draco's lips were soft, firm, and incredibly hot. Literally. Her body felt like it was on fire emanating from their fused lips. Draco's free arm snaked around her waist and pressed her closer to him as she slipped her tongue into his mouth aggressively. Hermione must have dropped her eggs because her hand was suddenly tangled in Draco's hair pulling his head closer to hers. Hermione felt extremely overheated, in the most delicious way. Her hands roamed Draco's leanly muscled back, pulling him closer and closer to her. She pulled their lips apart roughly so that she could breathe raggedly. Draco attached his lips to her neck and began sucking at the base of it. Hermione groaned softly at the sensation. Her eyes were semi-open and she could have sworn that she saw an eerie blue light above her, but Draco's tongue was too distracting for her to form a coherent thought. Draco dragged his lips back to hers and kissed her soundly.

They pulled away after a minute, both breathing heavily. Draco rested his forehead on Hermione's and remained silent. Hermione's lips were tingling and her whole body thrummed in expectation. Draco pulled away from her suddenly and Hermione felt very cold without his arms wrapped around her body. He stood a few feet away, not looking her in the eye. Hermione was somewhat hurt by his physical rejection.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"What?" she asked in disbelief.

"We have to work together. I shouldn't have…We should just forget that this happened."

Hermione stared at him in shock. He gave her the best snog of her life and he was going to try and pretend that it didn't happen? "I'm sorry, what?"

Draco glanced up at her. When their eyes met he took an involuntary step toward her. "Well, because…"

"Are you going to tell me that you didn't enjoy that?" Hermione demanded. _This man knows how to make me furious in less than ten seconds flat_.

"I—that's beside the point."

"Why the hell are you going around kissing me if you don't want to deal with the consequences, Malfoy!"

"It was stupid…"

"No need to tell me that!"

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"Stop apologising!" she shouted, her body still pulsing with desire.

"I'm sorry."

"If you apologise one more time I am going to hex you!" she threatened.

"I've put us both in an awkward situation, Granger."

"Hello! I believe that I was present for that amazing little snog session we just had. So stop acting like I was some passive stander-by. The situation is awkward because you're making it that way." Draco stared at her with his mouth slightly open. "I wanted to kiss you, Malfoy. Do you really think I would have allowed you to kiss me if I didn't?"

He considered this and shook his head no.

"Then why the bloody hell are you apologising, you git?"

Draco stared at her dumbstruck.

Hermione huffed and gathered her bags with a wave of her wand. "You're welcome, by the way, for helping with your shopping." And she apparated to her flat.

Draco stood in the alley for a minute unsure of what had just happened. His body was still tingling happily. _Merlin she's a good kisser_. _And she wanted to kiss me?_ Draco gathered his many shopping bags and apparated to his flat. He had his groceries magically put themselves away while he pet Nymph and relived the kiss over and over. _She wanted to kiss me_, he thought happily. Draco decided that he needed to act now or she would go back to hating him. He marched to his balcony, apparated to Hermione's and rapped on the glass soundly.

She appeared from her bedroom a few moments later in a robe. _Does that woman ever wear clothes?_ She glared at him, but waved him in.

"Malfoy."

"Please, call me Draco," he said softly as he walked into her living room. Crookshanks appeared from nowhere, as usual, and circled Draco's feet happily.

"I'll call you as I please," she sniffed.

Draco took several steps closer to her and noticed that her breathing sped up. _That's why she is always so breathless after we side-along apparate_. "Hermione…"

"If you're here to apologise again—"

"No!" He took another step closer to her. "I also enjoyed it a lot, our kiss. And I only apologised because, well. I mean, it's you."

"What does that mean?"

"You are known to get angry at me…and you are very skilled with a wand…"

"So why are you here, Malfoy? I'm not really in the mood for your games."

Draco stepped even closer so that there was only a foot between them. "The blush on your cheeks says differently." Hermione blushed darker at this comment. "I just don't want to… distract you from our project with this," he said gesturing between them.

"Neither do I," she admitted. "But for some reason whenever I so much as touch you my entire body—"

"Heats up?" Draco interrupted. He clasped her hands in his. "You feel that too?" he asked as he body began to heat up again.

"It's an issue."

"It is rather distracting," he grinned. _The kind of distracting that I like._

"So what are we going to do about it? Because spending time apart isn't going to happen when we live so close and work together."

Draco wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "We could always relieve the tension," he suggested.

Hermione pushed him away. "I told you that I'm not that kind of girl, Malfoy."

"I'm not some random guy, Granger. We know each other. We don't have to shag," _although I really want to_, "I just wouldn't mind snogging you from time to time. I can't be cooped up in the same room as you for hours on end and not touch you, its torture," he admitted finally. "We don't have to do anything that you don't want to do."

Hermione began pacing. "But what do we tell our friends?"

"Nothing, we're not dating. We're not exclusive. We can end this whenever. Our bodies, just really like to be touching for some unknown reason that I'm sure you've already been researching in secret."

She grinned, "How'd you know?"

"It's you, Granger."

"So say we do this…it would be a secret, and we wouldn't do anything that the other person wouldn't want to do? And we can keep on hating each other."

"We'll just snog a lot… and maybe more," Draco nodded.

Hermione blushed at his insinuation. "And at the end of next week we'll go back to ignoring each other?"

"If that's what we want, yeah."

"Let me think about it," she said after a moment.

"How about you think about it over dinner? We can make pasta at my flat. I have more than enough," he smirked.

"Only if you're cooking," she countered.

"I love cooking."

"Then why on earth do you order in so much?"

"Because I don't know how the Muggle stores work, you dolt!"

"Don't call me a dolt, you prat!"

"Can we skip the part where we argue and you can just come over to my flat?"

Hermione smiled against her will. "It better be good pasta, Malfoy."

* * *

Hermione let out a satisfied sigh as she scraped her plate clean. She put it onto the coffee table and looked over at Crookshanks and Nymph who were cuddling again. Draco looked at her expectantly. He turned off the television.

"But no romance. No cute little gifts or secretive smiles or sweet kisses or any of that. Do you hear me, Malfoy?"

"Do I look like a romantic, Granger?"

"And no," she blushed severely, but ploughed ahead to say, "no sex."

Draco didn't respond for a moment. "No sex?"

"We can…" she paused awkwardly, "you know… do other things…"

Draco smiled wickedly. "What other things?"

"You know what I mean, Malfoy! Stop teasing me or I'll change my mind."

He said quickly, "deal, no sex."

"We have a deal, then." They both stared at each other, unsure of how to proceed. "Can you turn back on the tele, I want to know if I got the right answer."

"It's definitely not "A", Granger," Draco scooted closer to her on the large sofa. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and Hermione felt that whole feeling that she got whenever she found herself in his arms—which happened a surprisingly large amount of times. She leaned her head on his shoulder, loving the contact.

"It most definitely is!" she argued.

Draco pulled her closer. "What use would a prophet have training parrots? It's definitely "C"."

"That's absurd," she countered. The screen showed that the answer was in fact D, and they were both wrong. "Well I suppose that neither of us are millionaires then."

"Quite the contrary, I am a billionaire."

"No way, Malfoy," she said in disbelief, turning her head on his shoulder to look at him. Hermione felt her breathing speed up just looking at him.

He looked down at her, their faces only a few inches apart. "Yes way."

Draco leaned down and kissed her softly. Hermione's lips began to tingle fiercely and her whole body started to pulse with magic. She nearly groaned. Hermione pulled back.

"What was that?"

"I thought that we—I'm sorry, didn't you just say that we could do this?" he spluttered.

"And didn't I just say nothing romantic, Malfoy?" He looked taken aback.

"I wasn't trying to be…" he said with a helpless look on his face.

Hermione crawled onto his lap, tangled her fingers into his hair and pressed her lips against his aggressively. When he opened his mouth for her she slipped her tongue against his own, battling for dominance. Hermione bit his lower lip and ground her hips against his own. She pulled away from him roughly and stared into his hooded grey eyes.

"Those are the kinds of kisses we can have."

"I'm fine with that," he muttered before clashing her mouth to his again.

Sometime later Hermione was laying beneath Draco as he sucked on her neck. One of his hands was groping her breast gently. He detached his lips from her neck with an unpleasant squelching noise. Draco sat up and pulled Hermione with him. Her breath mirrored his erratic one.

"I thought I saw a blue light," he said after a moment.

"I noticed it before, in the alley."

"What do you suppose it means?" Draco asked.

"I have no clue, Malfoy." Hermione stood after another moment of silence. It was not uncomfortable, far from it, in fact it was very comfortable and inexplicably warm, like sitting near a fireplace.

"I'm going to leave now. Crookshanks!" she called and the large cat appeared within a few seconds. She scooped him into her arms with a smile on her face.

"I'll meet you tomorrow morning on your balcony?" Draco said at her retreating back.

She turned around and nodded in response. She was gone a moment later. Draco kept staring at his balcony blankly for several minutes afterward. _What did I just get myself into? Granger's crazy; no sex? I'm crazy for agreeing._ He shook his head and went into his bedroom to curl up in his king size bed. It had never felt so lonely.

Hermione for her part was curled up around Crookshanks with Draco's throw wrapped around her. She breathed in his scent. _What am I doing?_ She wondered as she touched her tingling lips.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: The Key

Hermione was yet again stretched out on Draco's sofa reading and taking meticulous notes. She dropped her quill as an ingenious idea hit her.

"Draco."

"Huh?" he pulled his eyes away from his own book.

"We know that the caster determines the effects of _Cruciatus_ through their feelings and wand movement and their relation to the victim effects how effective the curse is. What if the relation to the victim is the most important thing?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"What if—only the caster can help heal the victim…"

"Because they're the one that made the curse."

"It's like any counter curse, the person who made the curse can break it the easiest because their train of thought and their magical signature comes naturally to them."

"Which means that we can reverse the effects without the caster, but with them there, then maybe… You're a genius, Granger!"

Hermione smiled widely. "But how would we go about reversing those effects?"

"We can use a standard regenerative potion and experiment with different ingredients from the caster."

"Like a hair," Hermione said thinking about Polyjuice potion.

"Or even a valued possession that would have traces of their magic on it."

"Can you brew a regenerative potion?" she asked.

"I could brew a regenerative potion back in sixth year," he bragged.

"This is it, Malfoy. This is the key to the puzzle. How long does the potion take to brew?"

"About 72 hours. If I start it now, we can visit Azkaban and steal a hair from a prisoner or two. Who tortured that Muggle a few weeks ago?"

"Travers."

"So we go to him, get a hair, get a piece of clothing. Maybe a piece of his wand? They should have the shards at the Ministry."

"I really hope I'm right."

"Of course you're right, you're Hermione Granger," he reassured her. "That means I can finally stop reading these terrible books?"

"No. Any and all information on the Cruciatus can help us to make a more powerful regenerative potion. For instance, this book says that the Aloe plant helps with burning sensations that some victims feel."

Draco sighed. "But I need to start the potion."

"Fine, start the potion, then get back to reading."

Hermione could have sworn she heard him mutter "bossy" as he walked down the hallway to his office where he stored his potion ingredients. Nymphadora hopped onto her lap and Hermione allowed herself a few minutes to celebrate this breakthrough. She wandered into Draco's office to see if she could help him with anything. He was bent over his bubbling gold cauldron. _The solid gold cauldron is a bit much_, Hermione thought.

"Can I help?"

"No, Granger. This potion is very complicated, you're too distracting," he said without looking up at her as he added a dash of newt's eye.

Hermione was offended. "I was the top of my grade at school," she reminded him.

"Not in potions, that was me." He looked at her then, "I appreciate the thought, but I'm fine. If you want to make yourself useful you could make dinner," he suggested.

"I'm not your personal cook!"

Draco stood up straight suddenly, his back rigid. "My mother is coming over for dinner. She'll be here soon, you should leave."

"Your mother?"

"Yes, my mother. We have dinner together on Fridays."

Hermione tried to picture the uptight blonde woman sitting down to dinner with Draco and imagined that it was full of long silences. "I'll make dinner," she found herself offering before she could stop herself.

"No, you should leave." Draco turned around to look at her.

"It's fine, I can make pasta. Besides, you have to start this potion so that we can start experimenting on Monday. We only have a week left."

Draco turned around as the potion started to boil audibly. He sighed and continued to add obscure ingredients to the pot. "Fine, Granger. But please, don't add anything too Muggle or she'll know that it wasn't me who cooked."

"I'll even use my wand to prepare it," she said. "Your mother will have no clue!"

A throat cleared behind them. Hermione's heart jumped into her throat and Draco's spine stiffened again. She turned around slowly to see the aforementioned uptight Narcissa Malfoy sporting a long mink coat. Her blindingly blonde hair was pulled into a side bun and she wore blood red lipstick.

"You must be Miss Granger," she held out her hand daintily.

Hermione glanced at Draco who was caught between escorting his mother from the room and continuing to make the potion. "I am, and you must be Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione shook her hand, "A pleasure to formally meet you."

"Likewise," Narcissa said tightly. "Draco, dear. Did you not receive my owl yesterday night? I told you I would be coming an hour early. You really ought not to leave your wards down, I walked right in."

"Mother," Draco greeted stiffly. "Last night, I don't remember—" Hermione saw Draco remembering the fact that their lips had been glued together for much of the previous night which was probably why he missed the owl from his mother. "Ah yes. I completely forgot." Hermione was blushing lightly. "I would greet you properly mother, but I cannot leave this potion unattended at the moment."

"Of course, darling. Miss Granger and I can wait in the living room while Winky prepares dinner."

"Winky? Barty Crouch Sr.'s elf?"

Narcissa looked Hermione up and down, impressed. "Indeed. She was unhappy at Hogwarts and wished to serve a family again. Come, Miss Granger, let us leave my son to his potions." Narcissa turned and walked out of the room gracefully.

Hermione looked at Draco, eyes wide. "What should I do?" she whispered.

"You'd be best to follow her," he whispered back. "Don't worry, Granger," he said once he saw her face, "She's not as intimidating as she looks."

Hermione gulped, highly doubting that statement, but walked slowly into the living room anyway and sat on Draco's large sofa, suddenly realising how ridiculously large it was with only one person sitting on it. Narcissa sat in his armchair facing her. Her coat was no longer on her. She was wearing a long black dress that hugged modestly at her curves.

"Miss Granger, I am very glad to finally meet you," she said. Hermione could not tell if she was being genuine or not.

"Please, call me Hermione," Hermione said awkwardly.

"You may likewise call me Narcissa." Narcissa smoothed down her already perfect dress. "Why do you and my son spend so much time together?" she asked abruptly.

_She doesn't know…I better tread carefully or Draco will kill me_. "I don't know what you mean."

"So I am wrong in thinking that he and yourself are involved in a relationship?"

"It would appear that you are wrong."

"Then why are you in his home?"

"I…Uh…We…" _Shit._

Narcissa smiled softly. "Please, continue. You're here because…"

"I…I live in the building beside this one and…"

"If you live in the building beside this one why are you not in your own building?" she asked rudely with a perfectly manicured eyebrow raised.

"I..."

"And what is that on your neck?" she questioned scathingly.

Hermione's eyes widened and she blinked several times. _The cover-up charm must have faded_. "My… er… boyfriend…"

"Who is…?"

Hermione cleared her throat.

"Don't tell me my son gave you that vile thing on your neck?" she asked, her tone rather condescending.

Hermione was going to deny anything of the sort, but she wanted to shut this nosy woman up and she rashly said, "He did," she lifted her nose into the air. "Draco and I are seeing each other."

"Now that wasn't so hard. If you had just said so from the get go we would have saved ourselves a lot of time."

Draco walked into the room then and sat down beside Hermione rigidly.

"You're not bothering her, are you mother?" he asked.

"Don't be rude, Draco. I was merely inviting her to dinner. I would love to get to know your girlfriend better."

Draco stared at her, then at Hermione, then back at her. "What—"

"A great idea!" Hermione finished his sentence for him. She smiled at Draco and grabbed his hand. Draco carefully made his face indifferent.

"Good idea, mother. I just need to borrow Gran—Hermione for a minute to help me with part of the potion," he pulled her by the hand out of the room and into his office. He closed and warded the door so that his mother could not hear them or barge in. "My girlfriend?" he demanded.

"I—"

"I think this complicates things, Granger."

"She was being so condescending! I just wanted to see the look on her face when—"

"Do you know what this means? She's going to have you followed. She's going to make sure that you're not lying. Then once she's sure she's going to look into your family's health history, and your background. If she decides that you're worthy, she's going to try to get you to marry me!" Draco was breathing heavily and pacing.

"Marry you!"

"Yes! All she's wanted for years was for me to settle down, have grandchildren, carry on the Malfoy line. She literally owls me once a week asking if I have found "a woman" yet."

"There's no need to worry, I'm Muggleborn after all, can't taint the perfect Malfoy bloodline," Hermione joked.

"No, don't you see? You're a war hero, you're _the_ Hermione Granger, you're perfect because you could redeem the Malfoy name."

Hermione's breath caught when he called her 'perfect'.

"We can just fake break-up, Malfoy. It's not like we're really dating," she countered.

"But she's going to see you here for the next week for our project. I'm telling you she'll spy on you. In fact she must already be spying on you if she believes that we're dating."

"Well that's fine, we'll 'break-up' next Saturday."

Draco took a deep breath. "That could work. If she thinks that we're dating, she's been spying on you already. We've haven't been 'seeing each other' that long…we should be able to break up by next week… You really should not have said yes to dinner," he groaned taking a seat in front of his large boiling cauldron.

"I know, I just…"

"It's okay Granger, I get the same way around her."

"You should probably call me Hermione in front of her," she suggested.

"And you should call me Draco. We're going to have to look like we're in puppy love or she won't believe that we are breaking up in a week from now."

"Well, I'm glad that we reached our little arrangement last night," she said lightly.

Draco chuckled darkly. "Shall we face her then?"

Hermione reached out her hand and linked it with his.

* * *

Draco fed Hermione a bite of his tortellini and gave her a peck on the lips afterward. Hermione blushed but kissed him back lightly. Narcissa watched on in amusement. _Yes, she will do nicely_, she thought.

"So, Hermione, what floor do you work on at St. Mungo's?" she asked, already knowing the answer, and even where Hermione's office was located.

"The fourth, in the spell damage and memory loss wings."

"How interesting. And you two started seeing each other when?" Narcissa asked. She watched as Hermione and Draco looked in the eyes trying to agree on a date. _And they think that they're not being obvious_.

"Why all the questions, mother?" Draco complained.

"Humour an old woman."

"We're not officially seeing each other," Hermione said.

_Yet_. With any luck, Narcissa's plan would get them together in one week from today.

"Draco, did I not teach you how to properly court a woman?" she scolded.

"It's the 21st century, mother," he retorted.

"Please tell me that he has at least taken you on a proper date," Narcissa said.

Draco narrowed his eyes.

"You haven't Draco? You have to bring her to Gaston's in Paris!"

"Paris?" Hermione laughed. She stopped laughing when she realised that Narcissa was all kinds of serious.

"Mother, that's a bit much for a first date."

"Draco, I must insist. I'll make a reservation for this Wednesday night. I'll know if you don't go," she threatened.

"What do you say?" Draco asked Hermione quietly.

"I do love France…" she said slowly.

"Consider it a date!" Narcissa said happily. "Shall we take dessert in the living room?" she suggested as Winky appeared with a silver platter topped by a three tier cake.

"Narcissa, this is really too much," Hermione said eyeing the cake.

"Nothing is too much for my daughter-in-law."

"Mother," Draco groaned. "We're not getting married."

"Whatever you say, Draco," she shrugged lightly and headed to the living room. She could hear the couple whispering back and forth to one another in the dining room before they appeared in the living room, hands clasped and smiles plastered on their faces. Draco brought their joined hands up to his lips and kissed them. Hermione smiled genuinely as he did so. _This is going to be easier than I thought_. "Hermione, what are your measurements?" she asked as the couple sat down, Hermione practically in Draco's lap.

"Huh?"

"Don't answer that Hermione," Draco advised.

"Why?" she asked instead.

"I saw a dress that I think would just look darling on you."

"Mother, please—"

"Excuse me. I am allowed to spoil my son's girlfriend if I want. I would like this one to last more than two weeks, Draco." Narcissa saw Hermione look at Draco questioningly at that, but she did not ask him anything.

"I wear a size eight."

"What a coincidence, the dress I have is a size eight," Narcissa smiled. Draco was not going to be able to keep his hands to himself when he saw her in the dress that she had purchased the night before.

"It is very kind of you to think of me, Narcissa," Hermione said. She took a bite of her piece of cake and groaned softly. Draco looked at her as she did so, his face flushing slightly. _Much easier than I thought_.

Narcissa glanced at her watch, even though the couple was not paying attention to her. "Is that the time? I do need to head out. I have an early morning tomorrow. I have decided to redecorate the Manor and need to start looking for colour schemes!" The 'pretend' couple looked at her. Narcissa summoned her mink coat and put it on smoothly. "Dinner was lovely. I'll see you next Friday?" Narcissa said, more than asked to Hermione.

"Yeah. I wouldn't miss it," she beamed.

"Draco, dear. I'm sure you'll be hearing from me soon." Narcissa slinked out onto the balcony.

Draco grabbed Hermione by the neck and crashed his lips on hers. He pulled her onto his lap and deepened the kiss, his hands running up on down Hermione's back raggedly. Narcissa disappeared a moment later with a smile on her face.

The couple stayed in that position for several heated minutes until Hermione pulled away from him. "Don't you think that we should have waited until she apparated?"

"That's the point, Granger."

"That she sees us?"

"That she sees us unable to keep our hands off of each other. If we make this look purely physical she won't suspect anything when we break up."

"Right," Hermione said wondering why they had kissed for so long after she left if that was the point. "So, Paris?" she asked still straddling him.

"You had to say yes, didn't you?"

"I love Paris!"

"You've been?"

"Mais oui!"

"You speak French. Why am I not surprised?"

Hermione lifted herself off of Draco and immediately felt cold. "Are you going to the Leaky Cauldron tonight? Because we're running late."

"Yeah, sure let's head over." They walked onto his balcony and Draco grabbed her hand again, they both sighed quietly at the contact. "Oh Granger, are Ginny and Blaise shagging?"

"Ginny and Blaise?"

"Pansy's under the impression that they're shagging."

Hermione considered it for a moment as Draco caressed the back of her hand with his thumb in the cool night air. "I think they may be. I remember him acting very strange two Saturdays ago when I asked if I could pop by to borrow a dress to go to the Opera with my parents. And then Ginny wanted to sit with your crowd and talked to Blaise the whole night. And I swear she was making eyes at him for weeks now…"

"They're totally shagging," Draco concluded.

"Weird," she said crinkling her nose.

"Well, Blaise often comments about how beautiful she is, openly. So I'm not surprised. I'm more surprised that he hasn't publically announced the progression of their relationship."

"That is odd…" Hermione laughed lightly. "Ginny and Blaise, you and I are fake dating. What's next? Pansy and Ron?" She laughed loudly with Draco at that image.

Draco stopped laughing suddenly. "Pansy and Ron!"

"They're not together, trust me, Ron is awful at hiding his feelings."

"No, that's how we'll get back at Pansy."

"I'm not following."

"We get her drunk and shove her in a room with Weasley."

"What?!"

"Hear me out. If they shag, all the better. But if Pansy wakes up in a room with Ron Weasley… oh, I'll have to buy a camera so I record her facial expression."

"Draco, we can't lock Pansy in a room with Ron."

"Yes we can. What's he going to do? Nothing she doesn't want to happen. Ron's a good guy, remember, he's one of you."

"I mean for Ron's sake we can't lock him in a room with Pansy."

"The worst that she'll do is shag him senseless. If he doesn't want to he can handle himself."

"But—"

"Trust me, Granger, this is going to be hilarious."

"I'm not agreeing."

"For now. Anyway, I thought that you said that we're running late. Shall we?" He turned on the spot before she could answer and they both appeared in the entry way of the Leaky Cauldron.

Their group was already crowded around the large table in the middle of the pub, Ernie, Hannah, and Theo in the centre of the two different groups. Draco quickly dropped Hermione's hand and walked ahead of her to sit beside Blaise, who for his part was teasing Ginny.

Out of the corner of his eye Draco watched Hermione sit beside Ron. He frowned as the two easily began talking with one another. Draco shook his head quickly and turned his attention back to Blaise who was discussing the front page of _Witch Weekly_ which featured none other than one Ginevra Weasley, Quidditch player extraordinaire.

"I'm personally a fan of the way the wind captures your hair in the shot," Blaise teased. A moment later he shouted out in pain due to, Draco assumed, Ginny kicking him under the table. "I'm being serious, Ginny. Your hair looks marvelous in the photo," he said sincerely.

"Stop making fun of the article, I am a Quidditch player you know, that means I can fight you."

"Oh I know all about—ow!" Blaise shouted out in pain again.

_They're definitely shagging_, Draco thought to himself, he tuned into Potter's conversation with Theo because Blaise's flirting bored him.

"I don't understand how there are still ruins in Diagon Alley, the Ministry should have taken care of that years ago," Potter was saying.

"It's all a matter of bureaucracy, Potter. Ask Hermione, if you want anything done at the Ministry it takes ages and metres of paperwork."

"And that's why I didn't want to work at the Ministry," Hermione chimed in, a Butterbeer in hand.

After concluding that his friends were all boring, Draco looked round for the trouble-making bitch a.k.a. sex life saviour, a.k.a. one of his best friends, Pansy Parkinson. The brunette was nowhere in sight. But he knew that she would show up eventually and he planned to put forth operation Weasel.

At that moment the she-devil herself appeared in the doorway in one of her regular short and tight dresses and massive heels. Draco excused himself to the bathroom where he apparated back to his flat and whipped up a quick alcoholic concoction. He poured it into a small vial, pet Nymph and was back in his seat in three minutes flat. Pansy had sat herself beside Draco. _Perfect_. All he had to do was bide his time and slip his potion into her Firewhiskey. Draco smiled despite himself.

"What're you all happy about then?" Pansy demanded.

"My demotion is almost over," he lied smoothly.

She eyed him suspiciously, but joined Mack's conversation about the new Weird Sisters record. While Pansy argued that "Avada Kedavra" was not out of line, and it was in fact an amazing track, Draco uncorked his vial and poured the contents into Pansy's drink. He looked up as he pocketed the vial again to see Hermione glaring at him. Draco smirked back at her.

As Pansy went to down the drink, Granger, the twat, almost ruined Draco's revenge plot by shouting out: "Pansy!" Luckily for Draco, nothing got between Pansy and her alcohol; Pansy downed her drink before asking what Granger wanted.

"I…love your makeup tonight," she lied maladroitly.

"Do you? We'll have to have another girl's night and I can do it for you. Are you free tomorrow night?"

Draco laughed at the look of discomfort on Hermione's face.

"That sounds…lovely…" Hermione said.

"Ginny!" Pansy shouted, dragging the redhead's attention from Blaise. "We're having a girl's night tomorrow night at yours." Pansy stood up abruptly. "I love this song!" she declared as "Love Potion" came on—a twenty year old ballad sung by a long since dead artist. Pansy began to sway to the slow beat in the crowded bar.

Draco grinned; his potion was already taking effect. Now all he had to do was to convince Weasley to take Pansy home, considering the fact that he was such a gentleman, he figured it wouldn't be too hard of a job.

* * *

Ron watched Hermione and Malfoy bicker back and forth under their breaths a few feet away from him. He was supporting an unsteady Pansy as she teetered on heels. Pansy looked up at him and smiled.

"You're a tall bloke, you know that Weasley?" She looked him up and down with an eyebrow raised.

_Why is it that every time we go to the Leaky someone gets too drunk? Can no one hold their alcohol?_ Ron asked himself as Pansy giggled to herself.

Hermione walked over to Ron and Pansy. "I'm taking her home, don't worry, Ron."

"Hermione!" Pansy exclaimed launching herself into the witch's arms.

Hermione would have toppled over from Pansy's dead weight, but Malfoy came up behind her in the nick and time and caught the two women. Malfoy bodily pushed Pansy toward Ron and steadied Hermione properly afterward. Ron easily caught the careening Pansy. She wrapped her arms around his body and inhaled deeply.

"You smell like heaven, Weasley," Pansy mumbled into his shirt. Although it sounded more like: ooo smnnhhhh heavv, Veez.

Ron looked up at Hermione who was once again arguing with Malfoy.

"You can't support her weight, how are you going to bring her home?" Malfoy said.

"Ron doesn't even know where she lives!"

"Neither do you!"

"So why aren't _you_ taking her then, Malfoy?"

"Because I have to take you home."

"What! Why?" Ron interjected.

"She's had a few drinks in her, Weasley. Last time she apparated after drinking one shot of firewhiskey she ended up in a Muggle supermarket."

"That's not tr—" Hermione began, but Malfoy cut her off by placing a hand over her mouth.

"As I said, apparate to Joffrey St in Diagon Alley's residential district, she's the first house on the left. Pansy should be able to unward her house. If not, the second window from the left of the back door should be open," Malfoy was almost yelling over Hermione's muffled shouts. "Good luck, mate!" Malfoy said before disappearing with his hand still over Hermione's mouth.

Ron, not believing that everyone else had shunted transporting the very far gone Pansy Parkinson onto him, looked around again for any sign of someone better equipped for this job. Seeing only an old hag in the back corner, Ron sighed and heaved Pansy up before turning on the spot with her arms wrapped around his body.

He guided her up her pathway and to the front door. _Please Merlin, be able to unward this_.

"Pansy, can you unward your front door?"

She looked up at him and bopped her hip into his side. "For you sugar, anything." Pansy drew her wand out of her heels with difficulty and waved it in what appeared to be a very drunken manner. Ron was surprised that the door popped open with a click. _Maybe she made her wards when she was drunk_, he mused. Ron began to turn away and wish her a goodnight.

Pansy grabbed his hand and pulled him into her dark home. They stumbled up the stairs and into what Ron could only assume was her bedroom. A lamp flickered to life in the far corner as they walked (well Ron walked and Pansy stumbled drunkenly) into the room. Pansy dragged him to the bed and pushed him onto it before he could let go of her hand.

"I should be…" Ron started to say, but he trailed off as Pansy undid the long zipper going down the entire front of her dress-shirt thing that was impossibly short. She pushed it off slowly and stood in front of him in a lacy green thong with a matching push-up bra.

Ron gulped audibly. Pansy smiled, seeming a lot less drunk than she had a moment ago. She pushed him onto his back and clambered onto his lap after shirking her heels.

"You know what they say about tall gangly men?" she asked, her voice sultry.

"I—er—" Ron spluttered, unsure of how to get himself out of this situation, probably because he didn't want to get himself out of it.

Pansy grinded her hips against his suggestively. "It's along the same lines as 'if you have big hands'…I wonder if it's true…" she continued to move against his waist determinedly. Ron felt himself stirring already and tried to breathe deeply before Pansy could notice.

She grabbed Ron's hands and placed them on her gyrating waist. Pansy then lowered her face toward his and Ron nearly groaned. Ron turned away at the last second so that her lips landed on his cheek instead of his lips. Pansy pulled back and looked at him confused.

"I can tell that you want me," she said flexing her hips against his again.

Ron, who was already blushing scarlet, went practically luminescent. "You're drunk, Pansy."

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't fuck you sober," she countered and tried to kiss him again, but he dodged it once more. "Can you stop doing that?" she complained.

"Can you?" he threw back.

Pansy pulled herself off of him and stood at the foot of her bed looking angry. "No one rejects me, Weasley." She looked legitimately upset that he was doing just that. "Get out," she said stiffly as she summoned a robe to cover up her glorious body.

Ron cleared his throat awkwardly and walked to the door. He turned around as he was about to exit her room to see her sitting at the edge of her bed, tears streaming down her face silently. Ron felt his heart pang and he turned back around to comfort her. He sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shaking shoulders. Ron felt distinctly uncomfortable comforting the former Slytherin, he also still felt the thrum of desire coursing through his body.

"I'm sorry, Pansy." She continued crying silently. "It's not that you're not attractive—you're very attractive. But I can't…you're very drunk right now."

"That never stops anyone else," she muttered.

Ron froze, suddenly very angry that anyone had taken advantage of her, even if, as she claimed, she would fuck them sober. "Who else?"

"Doesn't matter," she said quietly. "Why are you still here?" she asked, still leaning into his side.

Ron tightened his arm around her body. He wasn't sure himself, so he remained silent. Ron allowed his mind to wander as he rocked them gently from side to side, so it was not until he heard her snoring softly that he became aware of the fact the Pansy was sleeping with her head on his shoulder. He looked down at her heavily made up face and wondered vaguely what her face looked like without any makeup on.

Ron shook her lightly to wake her. He removed his arm from her shoulder. "Bed time, sleepy."

Pansy nodded and crawled underneath her covers. She cracked an eye open and said, "What're you waiting for handsome?"

Ron felt his ears heating up at that comment. "I'm not sleep—"

"I get it, your dick won't enter my vagina for some idiotic reason, now get in bed," she grumbled.

Ron's mouth dropped open at her crassness. "I—"

"I like to cuddle, you dick. You made my cry, the least you can do is cuddle me until I fall asleep."

Ron found himself shucking his shoes and cardigan and crawling into the bed beside her in his t-shirt and pants. Perhaps it was because he felt bad for making her cry, perhaps he was just lonely, but he pulled her back flat against his chest and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Take you ten years," he heard Pansy grumble. Moments later she was snoring softly, but Ron couldn't find it in him to let go of her waist. He too drifted off to sleep minutes later, breathing in the flowery scent of her shampoo.

* * *

"You're. A. Complete. Dick!" Hermione accused Draco between kisses.

She was lying on her back on her sofa with her legs wrapped around him while he pressed heated kisses against her willing lips.

"Shut it, Granger," he complained and successfully shut her up by shoving his tongue into her mouth.

Hermione moaned in response and shoved her hands into his hair. She pulled her lips from his as one of his hands stroked her over her jeans. Hermione's ragged breathing was punctured by moans as he continued to rub her there. Draco watched her writhe beneath him with her eyes squeezed shut. He deftly undid the button and zipper of her jeans and slipped his hand beneath her cotton underwear. Draco watched her eyes open and her breath hitch loudly at the skin to skin contact. He lowered his lips to hers again as he stroked her clit insistently. Hermione's hips were moving against his hand erratically. He slid a finger into her wet slit and was met with another pronounced groan from the brunette.

Hermione pulled away from his kiss again, whimpering softly. She appeared unable to keep her eyes open. Her body was jerking erratically against his and she was mumbling, "Gods yes. Merlin…Draco…" over and over again.

Draco went so hard it almost hurt when she said his given name. But he was determined to make her cum so hard that she would forget her own name, then reconsider her 'no sex' clause, so instead of trying to get any relief himself he slid another finger into her and curled them both, hoping to hit the fabled spot.

"What was that?" Hermione demanded breathily between pants.

Draco curled his fingers again and she moaned loudly. "That?" he asked with a smirk. _Found it_.

Hermione grunted in response as the blue light twinkled overhead. Draco curled his fingers once more, hitting her g-spot and sending her over the edge. Hermione's walls clamped down around his fingers and pulled them deeper into her body. Her eyes snapped open and she groaned deeply while looking into Draco's lust-filled eyes. In that instant Draco felt as if he were on the edge himself. Her eyes rolled back and closed as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. Draco played with her clit lightly as she came back down to earth. Draco withdrew his hand from her panties and licked his fingers while she watched with hooded eyes.

"You taste good, Granger," Draco said offhandedly, still holding himself above her body.

Hermione flushed even more than she already was. "How did you know about…that spot?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"I find it hard to believe that miss know it all doesn't know about the g-spot."

"Of course _I_ know about the g-spot, I just can't reach it with my…" she trailed off and blushed heavier.

"You masturbate, Granger?" Draco asked incredulously, and extremely turned on.

"It may have escaped your notice, Malfoy, but I have been single for a few years now…"

Draco sat up excitedly, "Do you have one of those Muggle things that vibrate?"

"That's none of your—why?" she asked suddenly suspicious.

"I want to use it on you," Draco said casually.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. She began to stammer.

Draco rolled his eyes. "We don't have to if you don't want to." _But you will_.

Hermione did not respond which Draco took to mean that she did indeed possess one of the Muggle contraptions, but did not want to admit that she wanted Draco to use it on her. Something occurred to Draco suddenly. "When was the last time you slept with someone? Please don't tell me that it was Weasley," he groaned.

"Ron is a perfect gentleman, so stop acting like that would be such a terrible thing! And it's none of your business who I last slept with. And speaking of Ron," she pushed him off of her and sat up, eyes blazing. "I cannot believe what you just did to him! How is that revenge on Pansy? She loves having sex, the only person losing here is Ron!"

Draco didn't like this turn in conversation. "Weasley's a grown man, he can handle Pansy. Besides, I'm sure Ron loves having sex too. I cannot wait to see her face tomorrow morning when she wakes up beside him…"

"What do you mean see her face? How are you going to see her face?"

Hermione had crossed her arms and Draco was finding it hard to hold eye contact with her. "I'm going to hide in her room with a camera," he said as if it were obvious.

"No, you're not. What if she's naked?"

"Nothing I haven't seen." He had to pull his eyes back up to hers as they seemed to have slipped downward because she was pushing up her breasts with her crossed arms.

"What?"

"Of course I've seen Pansy naked. It's Pansy. I'm sure you've even seen her naked by now."

Hermione shrugged. "Fair. What if Ron's naked?"

Draco shuddered. "That's why you're coming with me. You can protect my virgin eyes from the horror of Weasley's naked form."

"No. I am not."

"I believe you are."

"Short of abducting me, you are not getting me out of bed early. It's my one day to sleep in. Not to mention, I am not breaking and entering into Pansy's house."

"Abduction. What a great suggestion Granger."

"Malfoy!" Hermione threatened.

Draco held up his hands in mock defeat. "I won't abduct you tomorrow morning. I promise," he lied. "Now can we go back to the topic of the vibrational tool that you've hidden somewhere in this flat?"

Hermione flushed again and stood. "Get out."

Draco tried to look innocent. He loved when she got all angry. "Did you not enjoy our little couch adventure we just had?"

"Leave my flat." He could tell that she was more turned on than angry because she was breathing heavily again. He stared at her cleavage again. Draco was almost tempted to bring her to orgasm a second time.

"That's not what you were groaning a few minutes ago." Hermione flushed again. "Don't worry, I'll leave. But remember what I said about my mom. She's having you followed, so no kissing other blokes. Maybe I should ask her where you keep your toys, I'm sure she knows…" he grinned at the glare she shot his way. "I'm joking, I'm sure she didn't search through your apartment when you weren't home," well Draco was somewhat sure that she didn't, you can never entirely discount something when Narcissa Malfoy was involved. "Night Granger."

"Good night Malfoy. I look forward to _not_ seeing you tomorrow morning."

Draco waved the hand that was inside of her only a few moments ago before he _disapparated_ onto his balcony. _Time to deal with our little friend here_, he thought glancing down at the tent in his dress pants. He hopped in the shower and was toweling off an embarrassingly short amount of time later.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve: Candid's

Hermione felt someone kissing her neck insistently. _Still dreaming_, she thought as said someone's finger began circling her nipple. She sighed happily and arched her back. When the same someone bit her neck lightly Hermione's eyes snapped open and her body froze. She bent her head awkwardly to see a blond head attached to her neck. She pushed Draco away immediately…well, after a few seconds… more like after a few minutes because he was just so damn skilled with his tongue and his fingers…

"Morning girlfriend!" Draco smiled. "Ready to be abducted to break and enter in order to take incriminating photos that can be used as blackmail down the line?"

Hermione laughed despite herself. She had never seen him looking so happy before; he was genuinely smiling. "How did you get in here?"

"What do you mean how did I get in here. You unward your place in front of me every day, you think that I don't know how to do it by now? I'm insulted."

"Maybe we should break up. That's a legitimate reason, right? I can see the headlines now. Malfoy heir breaks into war hero's flat."

Draco smiled. He rolled onto his back and brought Hermione with him so that she was straddling him. "Is that anyway to greet your boyfriend?" Then he kissed her aggressively.

Hermione responded in turn, her hands tangling in his formerly perfect hair. Draco pulled back abruptly, leaving Hermione's mind clouded.

"Time for that later, we can't miss Pansy's beautiful morning face. I bet she forgot to take off her makeup!"

Hermione watched Draco, not believing that he pulled away from the kiss first. "I'm not going with you, Draco."

"I think you will find that you are." He waved the wand in his hand that Hermione did not notice before and she found herself being pushed toward her closet by an invisible hand. "Get dressed, will you? Can't have Pansy dearest or ickle Ronnie thinking that we're sleeping together."

Hermione looked down at her ragged old t-shirt and back at Draco, her mind still fuzzy from sleep, as well as his kiss. "You need to leave if I'm changing," she reminded him after a moment. Hermione pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper once he had—reluctantly— left the room. She yawned and walked into her living room to find Draco whispering into Crookshanks' ear.

"What're you doing?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

"Nothing, girlfriend of mine," he smiled looking very guilty. "Merlin your hair is a disaster in the morning," he said offhandedly.

Hermione felt very self-conscious suddenly. "Sorry I was woken up by a git who likes to pretend that he's my boyfriend but he's really just an overbearing troll."

"There's your morning fire. Shall we then?" He entwined her hand in his and practically skipped to the balcony.

"I need to fix my hair. As you so lovingly pointed out, it is a disaster."

"I was just teasing Granger, your hair is lovely." He took a strand of it and tucked it behind her ear fondly. "Now let's leave."

"I haven't had breakfast," Hermione protested.

"We'll eat with the new happy couple," Draco suggested before transporting them to Pansy's front step. "We'll have to go round back and sneak in through the window."

Hermione stood with her mouth open at the sight of Pansy's massive house in front of her. It reminded her of a classic Victorian home; glamorous, huge, and imposing. Draco reappeared a moment later from the side of the building.

"Close your mouth or flies will land in it." He pulled her behind the house and indicated the open window on the back porch. "Ladies first."

Hermione shrugged and climbed through the large window, feeling as if Draco was staring at her arse the whole time. She looked back at him and sure enough his eyes were glued to her ratty jeans. "Eyes up!" she scolded.

"Shh! You'll wake them before we get a picture!" Draco whispered back and he shoved her the rest of the way into Pansy's home.

He entered into the house after her. He took Hermione's hand again, which was hardly necessary, but she enjoyed it too much to protest. Draco led them up a flight of non-creaky stairs and to an ajar blue door. He brought a finger to his lips and side-stepped into the room. Hermione followed suit and was greeted by Ron and Pansy snuggling in a king size bed. Luckily the sheets were pulled up to their necks, so Hermione couldn't see anything. She did notice that Pansy's dress and Ron's cardigan were on the ground. Her eyes widened. For some reason she thought that Ron wouldn't do it…but here they were.

Draco smiled and looked over at Hermione. "Shall we wake the happy couple?" Before waiting for a response he brought the camera to his face and noisily took a picture.

Pansy stirred at the loud sound form the camera and the flashing light. She looked over at Draco and Hermione, confused. "What're you…" She clutched her head as a massive hangover seemed to take her over.

Draco took another picture, his grin transforming his face. That made Ron wake up. As Ron started moving Pansy noticed the fact that she was pressed against the red head and held in place by his muscled arm.

"Weasley!" Pansy screeched. She jumped out of bed and Hermione noted that she was wearing a robe, which fell open to reveal Pansy's very revealing undergarments. "Why are you in my bed?" she demanded as Draco's camera flashed relentlessly. That caught Pansy's attention. "Draco…" she said darkly and began to advance on him.

"Sorry love, I have to dash, Granger and I have work stuff, you know how it goes. But I am just so happy that you two are now a happy couple. You'll have to tell me all about it over tea. Grangie?" Draco pulled her out of the room at a half-run and shoved her out the back window.

He joined her a moment later and apparated them back to his flat.

"Malfoy, you are a complete and utter git!"

"Let's go and develop these shall we, babe?" he asked without listening to her. "Calm down, they didn't sleep together, didn't you notice the Weasel was wearing a shirt and Pansy still had on underwear!" he called over his shoulder on the way to his office and potion kit.

Meanwhile back at Pansy's house, Ron was trying to convince Pansy of this same fact.

"I promise Pansy, we didn't do anything," he pleaded as she pointed her wand at him.

"I find that hard to believe."

"You're still wearing your underwear, I'm fully dressed! Okay well we did… I mean you straddled me and tried to kiss me, but I pushed you away."

"A beautiful girl like me," which Pansy very much doubted at that moment because she had forgotten to take off her makeup, "on top of you. And you say no? You expect me to believe that?"

"Do you not remember anything from last night?"

"Draco drugged me as pay back for drugging him last week. I bet he made sure that I wouldn't be able to remember the night so that I would think that we slept together. That little shit!" Sparks flew out of the end of her wand.

"Can you point that thing away from me?" Ron asked, fear lacing his voice.

Pansy smirked. "Afraid of little old me, Weasley?"

"One hundred percent yes," he said without hesitation.

"Well it's Draco who should be afraid," she said darkly.

Ron sighed in relief and began to pull on his shoes. He threw his cardigan back on and stood in front of Pansy. Well more like towered.

"You're awfully tall, aren't you, Weasley?"

Ron froze and began blushing brightly. "Well…I…"

"Merlin, you are bad at hiding things. What did I say last night that's making you blush like a little boy who's seen his first breast?"

Ron blushed more. "You—er—"

"Spit it out Weasley, I would love to get a hangover potion in me sometime in the next century."

"You said that I was tall and you wondered if what they say about tall blokes is true…then you—er—well you were straddling me…and you sort of…moved your hips against mine…"

"Give you a hard on, did I? Just from a little grinding. You're such a maid. So is it?"

"Is what it?"

"True."

"I don't under—oh." Ron blushed again. Pansy rolled her eyes.

"You're a bit thick," Pansy then raised her eyebrow, enjoying making the red head squirm, "Are you thick, Weasley?" she asked suggestively.

"Guess you'll never know," he responded and walked out of her room. She heard her front door close a few moments later.

She smiled. She didn't expect him to say anything at all, apparently he did have some balls, who knew how big they were though. Not Pansy, that's for sure.

* * *

Ginny pulled herself out of her bed and glanced at her clock above her doorway. She swore loudly, making the man beside her jump awake.

"'S wrong?" he asked sleepily.

"They'll be here any minute!" Ginny shouted.

"Shh, love," the man complained, he pulled her back into the bed and sighed at their naked flesh pressed against one another's. "We still have fifteen minutes, don't we?"

"You are insatiable," Ginny giggled as he stroked her breast.

"Not for lack of trying." He nibbled her neck. "What are we at now? Four today?"

Ginny groaned in response as he slid into her with his wide length.

"Why not make it five?" he suggested as he began to pump in and out of her.

"Why not six?" she countered.

"We only have fifteen minutes, love."

"Looks like you better stop chatting and get to work then."

Thirteen minutes later and their total came to seven.

"I think that's a new record for me," the man boasted.

Ginny hopped off of his shrinking member and hastily threw on a summer dress. Not really season appropriate, but it was clothing.

"You need to get dressed and leave. Hermione is known for being early!" Ginny said as she shoved more clothes into her closet and disappeared the rose petals and chocolate from the bed.

"Or we could just come out with our little secret."

"Or you could put your boxers on and hurry that toned ass out of my flat," Ginny suggested as she pulled on some underwear.

"It didn't bother me at first because I wanted you all to myself, but this is getting frustrating, Ginny. I want to be able to kiss you in public. I want to be able to hold your hand."

"I—I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet."

"Then maybe you're not ready for us either," he said angrily throwing on his clothing. "It's been nice, but I'm off to find a girlfriend that isn't embarrassed of me." He grabbed his wand and stormed out of her bedroom.

"Blaise!" Ginny called after his retreating back. She followed him into the living room as he opened the front door. Hermione was standing there with her arm poised to knock. She looked at Blaise confused. She looked at Ginny in her summer dress then back at Blaise whose shirt was not done up properly.

"Oh. So we were right."

"What?" Blaise and Ginny asked at the same time.

Hermione pushed past Blaise and into the living room to collapse onto a couch. "Malfoy and Pansy… and I guess myself as well, were under the impression that you two were…involved. And it appears that we were correct." Hermione broke into a smile. "Congratulations! How long has it been?"

Ginny had been expecting Hermione to blow up in her face because she was shagging a Slytherin. She was unsure of what to say.

"Well that doesn't matter much, seeing as it's over," Blaise said shooting a glare at Ginny.

"What? No!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Blaise…" Ginny pleaded.

"This one's too embarrassed to tell anyone that we're together," Blaise explained to Hermione.

"I feel as if most people know anyhow," Hermione shrugged.

At that moment Pansy walked through the still open door, arms linked with Hannah. She assessed the scene then exclaimed: "I knew it! Wasn't I just telling you Hannah that Ginny was so lucky to be shacking up with Blaise because of his huge, and I mean huge, dick. Although, giving head probably makes her jaw sorer than—"

"Pansy!" Hermione shouted.

"Just an observation. Oh, is the happy couple having a tiff? Let's hear it then." Pansy settled herself into the couch beside Hermione with Hannah at her other side.

"Ginny—" Luna walked in, cutting off Blaise.

_Someone needs to shut that door,_ Ginny thought.

"Oh! Are you two having your first fight? A monumental step in any relationship," she commented dreamily and sat down beside Hermione.

"Why don't you all get some popcorn while you're at it," Ginny suggested sarcastically.

"Popcorn?" Pansy asked.

"It's a Muggle treat that you eat while watching Muggle moving images. Quite delicious, slavered in butter and salt," Hannah explained to Pansy.

"Could you all just wait outside for a minute!" Ginny shouted.

"What's the point, they all know, already, Gin. So why are you trying to hide the fact that we're together?" Blaise asked walking toward her.

"Well, Ron and George don't know," Pansy corrected.

Ginny ignored her. "I just didn't—I don't know how I feel, how can I 'go public' when I'm unsure?"

"That's the thing about love, it's scary," Blaise said softly as he took her hands into his.

"Love!" Hermione squawked.

"I know it's too early for us to be in love, but you mean a lot to me. And I want the world to be able to see that."

Ginny's heart clenched. "You mean a lot to me too. I mean, and you're a great kisser," she joked as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"And I'm funny, don't forget that one."

"My brothers are going to be a right pain in the arse," Ginny added. "Ron especially. Me with a Slytherin, I'll never hear the end of it."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Pansy piped in.

The couple looked toward the audience that they had forgotten about. "Why's that?" Blaise asked.

"I may or may not have some dirt on a certain Weasel. Don't worry about him too much."

"Will you agree to be my girlfriend now? In public?" Blaise pleaded.

"Only if you stop pouting," Ginny laughed.

Blaise brought his lips down to hers, and, unlike their usual passion-filled and lust-ridden make out sessions, they kissed softly, deeply. Ginny felt warmth radiating from her heart and she pulled him closer.

"This is cute and all," Pansy broke in, ruining the moment, "But we're trying to have us a girls night here, do you mind taking that large penis of yours and evacuating the premises?"

"Pansy!" Hermione and Hannah scolded.

"I'll see you later, babe," Blaise said with one last kiss. As he was about to close the door he added, "No talking about what we do in bed!" Pansy slammed the door in his face with a flick of her wand.

"We will absolutely be talking about what you two do in bed," she told Ginny with a look that brooked no argument.

_I hate girl's nights_, Ginny thought sourly, wishing she were still in the strong arms of her boyfriend Blaise Zabini.

"While I do everyone's makeup let's talk about the craziest things we've ever done in bed!" Pansy shouted happily.

Ginny groaned.

* * *

The girl's night was not as painful as Hermione thought it would be. They had a few glasses of mead and mostly talked about work. Everyone more or less avoided Pansy's probing sex life questions. There was an awkward moment during which Pansy accused Hermione of seeing someone because of a 'sex glow' that she appeared to have and an apparent spring in her step. Luckily she was able to truthfully say that she wasn't have sex with anyone, although Malfoy had once again shown her how skilled he was with his fingers before sending her off to her girl's night. The memory alone made a fierce blush rise to her cheeks.

Hermione ended up staying the night and heading to her parents from Ginny's. Visiting her parents went as it usually did; they didn't speak much, she cooked them lunch and helped clean the house, and above all kept her wand out of sight.

That evening Hermione stood in front of her fridge with the door open staring blankly at its contents. She didn't feel like cooking, but she wanted a home-made meal. For a moment she was tempted to go over to Draco's and convince him to cook for her (the last time he had cooked it was heavenly), but ever since they had struck their little deal, she didn't want to seem like she wanted to spend non-work or non-snogging time with him. She didn't like him. She just liked his cooking. And his dexterous fingers were pretty great too.

Hermione closed her fridge door and decided that bothering Draco to cook for her was allowed. They were after all work partners and to an extent friends. _And he bought so much food that it is going to bad if I don't eat it_, she reasoned. She _apparated_ to his balcony with Crookshanks in tow and let herself in (the balcony doors were open). The overwhelming and delicious smell of garlic hung in the air. She wandered to his kitchen, dropping Crookshanks near Nymphadora as she went. Draco was stirring vegetables that he was frying and humming to himself. A large pot of pasta and a pot of alfredo sauce was boiling on the stove top. Hermione watched him sample some of the alfredo sauce. Her stomach rumbled loudly. Why Draco heard that and not her footsteps as she entered the room, she didn't know, but he turned around at the moment, tomato sauce spoon still lifted to his mouth.

"Were you spying on me, Grangie?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why would I spy on you?"

"Well you were standing in the doorway for almost a minute before you said anything."

_Okay, so he did hear me enter the room_. "Just watching a genius at work," she smiled cheekily.

"What do you want?" he asked suspiciously.

"Why would I want something?" she asked in what she hoped was an innocent manner.

"You can have dinner with me," he said with a sigh and added on quickly, "but only because I made too much." Hermione smiled triumphantly. "And I get to choose the station that we watch. None of your reality TV business."

"Agreed."

Rather than creepily watch Draco cook, Hermione picked up _How to make your curses stronger_ and read in Draco's black armchair. As usual, she gleaned nothing from the pages that she read, but she felt better having a strong research base for their project just in case. Draco interrupted her reading by serving her a steaming plate of fettuccini alfredo. She was unsurprised that he served her because last time he had scolded her for not putting enough tomato sauce, then again for adding too much. The memory of the look of horror on his face brought a smile to hers.

Hermione graciously took the plate of food and began eating as Draco turned on the television. He turned it to a channel about crime scene investigations and the two of them bantered back and forth trying to guess who the killer was. The show ended and, of course, Hermione had guessed correctly; it was the jealous mailman who wanted to start his own fishing business. They had both abandoned their plates on the coffee table a long time ago and Hermione was leaning into Draco's shoulder with his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"Why did you leave your balcony open?" she asked as the end credits continued to roll.

"I was having a smoke, I must have forgot…"

"I forgot that you smoke. Why did I forget that you smoke?" she asked herself. "You're quitting." It wasn't a question.

"I suppose that I may be…it's just something that I do to pass the time."

Hermione thought that he was leaving something out, but didn't pry. "Or did you leave the balcony open so that your mother or her spies can see us eating dinner together?" she asked in a whisper.

Draco stared at her for a moment. "You caught me, Granger." Little did she know that Draco had been on the balcony earlier pretending to smoke as an excuse to see when she arrived home from her parents. Or that he had started cooking dinner the moment he saw her arrive on her small balcony. She didn't know that he had thought about what he was going to cook all day or that he had prepared a little speech to convince her to help him eat all the food that he had bought at the super market. Hermione knew none of this, because Draco's mask of indifference was firmly in place.

In blissful ignorance, Hermione smiled; _now I have an excuse to kiss him_. "Well, she is expecting a show, is she not?" Hermione quickly straddled Draco and pressed her lips against his, her arms wrapped around his neck. She loved the feeling of being pressed up against him, and as usual her whole body began humming at their contact.

Hermione had been thinking about the fact that so far only she had reached release; Draco never seemed too concerned about orgasming himself. She wanted him to. _But in the privacy of his bedroom, without Narcissa or her spies watching_. After kissing him forcefully, Hermione licked and bit his neck—something that he seemed to love to do to her—until she reached the base of it and anchored her mouth there, sucking on him happily. Draco was breathing heavily in her ear and she heard his breath hitch when she started to grind herself against him with conviction. She could feel his pulse speeding up underneath her lips with each wave of her hips. Her core was already wet with anticipation, her entire body pulsing.

Draco groaned quietly and dragged her lips back up to his. His hands found their way onto her hips and helped to angle her so that she rubbed against his growing erection with each thrust. Draco detached his lips and mirrored Hermione's earlier movements; licking and biting up and down her neck, before settling just above her collarbone and sucking determinedly. Hermione, who was unbelievably turned on, rested her head against his soft hair and whimpered lightly. One of his hands left her hips and slid underneath her jumper and latched onto her breast. Draco's hand had only ghosted the top of her breasts that were peeking out of her bra when a throat cleared loudly behind them.

Hermione's eyes snapped open to look into Blaise's Zabini's wide ones. Draco's head whipped around to Blaise, back to Hermione then back to Blaise again.

"Fuck."

Hermione hid her face in Draco's neck as he withdrew his hand from her jumper slowly. Her entire face flushed in embarrassment while her heart tried to calm its erratic beating.

"Hello Hermione!" Blaise said cheerfully.

"Blaise, what are you doing here?" Draco asked rudely.

Hermione heard Blaise walk to the armchair and sit down. "I wanted to tell you some big news, but it appears that you have your own."

Draco's arms closed around Hermione's back and pulled her closer to him. "What of it?" he asked defiantly.

"I'm glad you're finally shagging someone. Not going to say that I'm not surprised, this is coming out of left field. You two have hid it well."

"We're not shagging!" Hermione retorted into Draco's neck.

"C'mon Granger, don't be embarrassed, also I can't understand you when you talk into Dray's neck."

Hermione slowly extricated herself from Draco's lap and made eye contact with Blaise, despite her flaming red face. Her right side was pressed close to Draco and their hands were entwined. She figured putting some space between them would help to prove her point, but when she tried to scoot over Draco's hand flexed holding her in place. "We're not together," she said. His hand loosened.

Blaise's face flickered to Draco's for a moment and he frowned. But by the time Hermione had looked at Draco his face was a mask again. "What a shame. You two would make cute blonde haired monsters with manes around their pale heads."

"Actually, any children that we had would be likely to have brown hair because it's a dominant—"

"Granger," Draco interrupted.

"Listen Blaise. We're not…"

Draco cast a spell quickly and shut the balcony doors with a flick of his wand. "My mother thinks that we're together, and she's spying on us…so we're making it seem like we're head over heels and can't keep our hands off of each other. And we're going to 'break up' on Saturday once our project is over. But if she thinks that something is off, she'll start interrogating us, and we don't have time for that. So if you could just keep this little secret between the three of us, that would be great. Mother thinks that we're trying to keep our relationship a secret from our friends. Which we are."

"Relationship?"

"Our fake relationship," Draco corrected.

"So please don't tell anyone. It's only for five more days," Hermione pleaded.

"Of course not." Hermione sighed in relief. "But you'll both owe me a favour. Any favour that I ask, whenever I need it."

"That's way too vague! What if it's illegal or against my morals, or—"

Blaise cut off Hermione, "I would never ask you to do anything of the such. But you will owe me."

"But—" Hermione started again.

"Deal," Draco cut her off. "Now what is your news?"

"Oh, right. Your best mate is no longer single!"

"Pansy's got a boyfriend?" Draco asked confused.

"No, you prat, _I'm _no longer single. You really think that Pansy is your best mate?"

"Well we have been friends since birth, Blaise. Try to curb your jealousy, you're a close second. So you're finally ready to tell the world that you're shagging the She-Weasel?"

Hermione and Blaise began protesting at the same time.

"That's my best friend!"

"That's my girlfriend!"

"She has a name!"

"Stop being such a git!"

Draco cut them off. "Take a potion you two."

"I can't believe you still use that stupid nickname, after all this time," Hermione was disappointed in him.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry. So I am correct in saying that yourself and Ginny are dating?"

Blaise was all smiles again. "Jealous, Dray?"

Draco laughed. "She's all yours, Blaise."

"I'm surprised you didn't tell him yourself Hermione. But then again, I suppose it's hard to converse when one's lips are glued to another's," Blaise teased.

His statement had the desired effect and Hermione went fuchsia. "It was not my news to share," she said tightly.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "I'm sure." He stared at the couple for a moment and Hermione became aware that she had not moved herself apart from Draco, and that she was still pleasantly pressed against his side. "Why does your mum think that you two are one?"

Hermione's eyes widened. _Shit_.

"Because Granger's an idiot and tried to outsmart my mother and ended up saying that we were dating," Draco said smoothly. It wasn't entirely a lie, he just left out the part where Hermione had a huge hickey on her neck from yours truly.

"Never try to outsmart Narcissa, that woman is impossible to understand," Blaise advised, rising to his feet. "Well enjoy acting for you mum or whoever's watching. You two are really getting into character, if Hermione's moans are any indication." Blaise disappeared a moment later and Draco waved his wand, lifting whatever spell he had cast. With another flick of his wand he closed the doors that Blaise had left open as well as his deep purple curtains.

"It's way too easy to make you blush, Granger."

"How do you not find that embarrassing?"

"What's to be embarrassed about? If you were moaning it means I'm good at what I do," he said with a smirk. Draco pulled her back onto his lap and took hold of both of her hands.

Hermione could feel that he was still in the mood. "But what if he says something?"

"First of all Granger, we are adults and can do as we like. Secondly, Blaise would much rather lord this 'favour' over our heads for the rest of his life rather than talk. He's a Slytherin after all."

"I hope so…" Hermione tried to be worried, but her body was still thrumming in excitement and her current position wasn't helping things much.

Hermione moved her hips against his lightly, not sure if the mood had been ruined. Draco smiled and smashed their lips together again. In an instant Hermione's body was once again alight with desire and her breathing became heavy. Hermione was happy that Draco had closed the curtains because she wanted to touch him, like he touched her. She continued to grind against him, but this time she moved her hips as if he was in her and Draco pulled his mouth away from hers to moan quietly. His hands that were helping guide her thrusts travelled up her jumper again and cupped her breasts lightly, his thumbs brushing across the tops.

Hermione used this chance to move slightly back on his legs so that she could unbutton and unzip his dress pants and touch him over his silk boxers. That elicited a strong groan from the blonde whose whole body seemed to be frozen in disbelief. Hermione picked up his wand from the side table and made his boxers disappear. She stared down at him for several heated moments. Draco was still frozen, unsure of what was going to happen. _He's so big_, she thought as she wrapped her hand around his pink flesh, her fingers barely touched all the way around. Draco hissed at the contact and again when she slowly dragged her hand from base to its leaking tip. Hermione smiled as his head fell back against the sofa and he swore loudly. She continued to pump her hand up and down quickly, her thumb caressing the head after every stroke.

"Fuck…Hermione…"

Hermione's felt as if she were near the edge herself, even though Draco's hands had fallen from her breasts and were clutching the cushions on either side of him. She watched in fascination as his mouth opened slightly with his head pressed back against the sofa forcefully and his eyes squeezed shut. Draco's hips were moving slightly to match Hermione's hand. Hermione twisted her hand a little and Draco's eyes snapped open and locked onto her own as his body froze and he came undone. A blue light seemed to be bathing Draco's body, which was impossible because there were no blue lights in his living room. In that moment where they held eye contact Hermione felt a hot flash in her body from her stomach straight to her core and she, unbelievably, felt her lower stomach clench as she came loudly. Her head fell into Draco's shoulder as the waves of her orgasm took her over and she ground her hips into his shrinking erection as she mumbled incoherently.

Several minutes later Hermione came to.

"What the bloody hell was that?" she asked in a rough voice, her head still buried in his neck.

"Merlin Granger you have to warn me before you just go around grabbing me like that."

"You seemed to enjoy it," she threw back.

"_You_ seemed to enjoy it," he corrected.

Hermione felt heat flood her face. "I…I don't fully understand what happened. That was…one of the best and longest orgasms of my life…but you weren't even touching me…"

"You are one of those librarian types that seems so innocent but the second clothes come off she gets off on the weirdest things. Like wanking someone else."

"I am not one of 'those librarian types'!"

"Well, let's see, you go to the library for fun. You always put your hair up in a bun or into a braid. You are super smart."

Hermione pulled back and looked him in the eyes seriously. "I don't understand what happened. I mean, I was…enjoying watching you, but then when you looked at me…I saw that blue light again." She reached for his wand again and _scourgified_ herself and Draco.

"Hey, don't use my wand," he complained.

"Mine is on the ground somewhere."

"That's an invasion of privacy."

"You literally walk into my home without permission."

"That's different."

"No it's not!"

"You shouldn't even be able to use it properly because you didn't challenge me for it. And it's not suited to you."

Hermione thought about that for a moment. Her mind flashed back to the blue light. _Somehow they are related._ "I am a skilled witch, I can do whatever I put my mind to. Including using your wand."

Draco huffed and grabbed his wand back from her. He ended up placing it back on the side table though. "Thanks for that by the way, Granger. I know that you don't want to shag me," Hermione found herself contradicting that in her mind, "but I wouldn't mind a repeat of that," he said huskily pulling her hips back toward his.

"I feel that it's only fair…I mean you…well you know…"

"I what, Granger?" he asked as his hand descended into her pants and underneath her panties with the ease of someone who did it frequently.

She gasped in pleasure and allowed her eyes to flutter shut as he stroked her swollen lips.

"What do I do, Granger?" he asked, stopping the movement of his fingers.

Her eyes opened. "Why are you stopping?"

"Answer the question."

"What question?" she asked confused and once again turned on beyond belief.

"You said that it was only fair that you wank me off, seeing as I…then you trailed off. Seeing as I do what Granger?" he flexed his fingers against her clit and she groaned quietly.

"You know, Draco. Now please, continue."

"Continue what?"

"To touch me, you git."

"I am touching you, Granger."

She huffed. "Finger with your bloody skilled fingers!"

Draco slipped a finger into her obligingly and rubbed her clit with his thumb. "Like this?"

"Nnnfff…"

"What was that, Granger?"

"Yes!" she tried to shout, but it came out much more as a groan. "Merlin yes…"

Draco chucked darkly and had her shouting out incoherently and clamping down on his strong fingers in three minutes flat. Draco withdrew his fingers and licked them clean, as he did every time. The sight simultaneously turned Hermione on and grossed her out. She found that her lids were heavy with fatigue and she yawned loudly, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep straddling Draco.

"Why do you do that?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"You taste good," he said with a shrug.

"I doubt that," she said sleepily, her eyes sliding shut.

"Well you do." He said while kissing her neck lightly. Hermione wanted to yell at him for doing something so romantic, but was enjoying it too much to stop him.

"I'll have to take your word for it." Hermione said yawning again and snuggling her head into the crook of Draco's neck. For some reason her mind was yelling at her to get up, but instead she let Draco's warmth envelop her. Within moments she was snoring softly on his shoulder.

Draco pulled her closer with one arm. He then repositioned them so that he was lying on his back with Hermione on top of him. He reached for his wand and summoned a blanket. Nymph and Crookshanks jumped onto the end of the sofa and curled around each other on the throw. Hermione mumbled in her sleep and kissed his neck lightly before quieting down again. Draco smiled and fell asleep some time later, revelling in the fact that someone was sharing his bed—or in this case, couch—, and that someone was Hermione.

* * *

Hermione was dreaming about sleeping with Draco again. She was on top and groaning loudly as they neared their release. Hermione jerked her hips erratically as she felt herself about to drop over the edge when she was suddenly shaken awake. She looked around blurrily to see a blond staring down at her. She was in fact sleeping with Draco. Well on him. _I must have fallen asleep last night_.

"Having a good dream, Granger?" he asked in a sleepy voice. Hermione blushed scarlet. "Judging by the way your hips were moving, I'd say it was a pretty good dream."

Hermione's body was still pulsing with desire. She lifted herself off of Draco in an attempt to clear her head. It was then that she noticed that he was poking into her stomach. "Judging by what's pressed up against my stomach right now, I'd say you had a pretty good dream too," she smirked.

"It wasn't my dream that I was enjoying, it was yours. You seem to really like grinding against me in your sleep."

Hermione had pushed herself to the other end of the sofa by this point—she needed distance to clear her fogged brain—and was petting Crookshanks who was purring very loudly. "It happened once, Malfoy. Calm down."

"More than once, and why don't you come over here and help me calm down?" he suggested with a raised eyebrow.

"More than once?"

"Oh yes, the night that we shared a bed when I was piss drunk. I woke up to you moving your little hips against me and groaning."

_I knew he was lying when he said I didn't sleep talk. _"I'm going home to shower." Draco's eyes flashed as she said that, so she added, "Alone. Shall we meet in ten to go to breakfast, then head to Azkaban to start our little experiment?"

"Do you think ten minutes will be enough time? I think we both know what you're going to go do in that shower, Granger."

Hermione flushed, but said defiantly, "What I am doing with a certain Muggle toy without you, I think you mean. I'll see you in fifteen minutes then, Malfoy." Hermione scooped up Crookshanks and stalked out of his flat.

Draco was tempted to follow her to see where she kept her vibrator hidden, but instead ended up taking a cold shower himself and feeding Nymph. He dressed in all black robes for their Azkaban endeavor and was mulling over what personal items he thought would be most effective in the potion when a freshly bathed Hermione waltzed into his flat. She was wearing all black robes as well and her hair was pulled out of her face in an intricate looking bun. She was also holding Crookshanks.

"Why are you bringing your cat? We're leaving," he stated the obvious.

"Thanks Captain Obvious. I figured that Crookshanks and Nymphadora can spend the day together. He gets so lonely alone in our flat, and Nymphadora's here all alone…"

"Hermione, our cats are not spending the day together."

She let Crookshanks hop to the ground defiantly. "Yes they are. Are you ready to leave yet, we're late."

"No thanks to your little shower," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"We're not in a relationship, your cat cannot stay at my home."

"Au contraire, we are in a relationship. This just shows that we spend a lot of time together."

Draco felt uncomfortable with the fact that he wanted their relationship to be real. He was even more uncomfortable with the fact that he welcomed the presence of her bushy fur monster of a cat. "Fine." He walked onto the balcony and took her hand when she joined him. They _apparated_ to the alleyway and began the walk to _Paul's_.

* * *

Hermione pulled the wand shards from her pocket along with the vial of Travers' hair and fingernail clippings that they had collected earlier that morning. She handed them to Draco slowly.

"Which shall we try first?"

"The potion takes long to mature, at least 48 hours, so I would say what we think will work the best should be tested first."

"Could we not just make a bunch of smaller potions?" Hermione questioned.

"We could, but it will make the potion less powerful. Luckily for us I brewed two separate potions, so we have two chances right off the bat. In the mean time I can start brewing another restorative potion."

"Definitely the wand shards first."

"Should we put the whole shard in, or just the bit with the dragon heartstring in it?"

"Throw it all in, the more magical imprint there, the better."

"Okay." Draco tossed the wand shards into his large gold cauldron and watched as a dark green smoke rose from it. "The potion should change from this putrid green to a light pink once it is ready for use. Near the end of the brewing process we can add booster ingredients like aloe and willow bark."

Hermione couldn't help herself, she hugged him. Draco sat beside his cauldron frozen. She pulled away quickly. And apologised; "Sorry. I just can't believe that we're getting somewhere. I have a good feeling about this. Add the fingernails and hair to the other one. I'm going to grab one of my spellbooks from training. I think that we should try casting a few standard healing spells as well."

She smiled at Draco, who still looked distinctly uncomfortable, and practically skipped out of his flat. She found the ten pound book that she had been looking for: _Healing spells and potions from basic to advanced_. She also grabbed her ten pound book about memory loss (_Remembrance_) that she had to read during her Healer training. Hermione dashed back over to Draco's and into his office. He had just finished added the rest of the ingredients and fixing the temperature.

"Why are those in here?" he pointed to her two books on his work table.

"So that you can help me," she smiled broadly. "I'll read the memory book and you read the standard healing spells one. I've read it so many times I should only need to skim it."

"Can't we just take a break, Granger?" he whined.

"No. We still have to actually test this potion. Speaking of which, you did send for that report from the Muggle hospital describing the tortured Muggle's symptoms, right?" she was already flipping through her book.

"Of course I did."

"Good, what are they?" she continued reading.

"Sporadic body spams, a few seizures, recurring headaches, hallucinations and flashbacks," Draco rolled off casually as he cracked open the large book that Hermione had placed in front of him.

Hermione nodded and tried to get more comfortable in his wooden chair.

"Why don't we go to the living room where we can sit in comfort?" he suggested.

"Why Malfoy, I do believe you've had a clever thought," Hermione teased.

She followed him into the living room and parked herself in his large armchair. She missed the frown that he sent her way because she did not sit beside him as her nose was currently stuck in a book.

An hour and a half later Hermione absentmindedly stood, while still reading and walked over to the sofa. She grabbed a pillow, threw it onto Draco's lap and laid down, placing her head on the pillow, all without moving her eyes from the page. Draco began playing with her hair lightly a few minutes later and Hermione was invaded with that secure feeling again. Crookshanks jumped onto her stomach and Nymphadora jumped onto part of her hair that Draco was not playing with. If she were to raise her eyes from her book she would have seen a faint shimmering above their heads, but as it were she did not lift her eyes and continued to read obliviously.

_This is heaven_.

Draco interrupted the companionable silence, "The bapoca leaf is supposed to help with seizures."

"A total memory removal can help with flashbacks," Hermione responded, "the Aurors must have only done a partial one, because full removal can be dangerous when done improperly."

"Luckily we have you then."

"Luckily," she agreed with a broad smile on her face.

"A mind stabilisation spell may help with the hallucinations…"

"Willow bark will help with the headaches, but we already have that one. I think we might have to go on a little shopping trip, Malfoy."

"You'll agree to go out in Wizarding London with me?" he asked after a moment.

"Aren't you supposed to be the blood prejudiced one?" she joked.

"I'm just saying Granger, my mother will be watching. Which means we'll have to at least look like we're happy to be in each other's presence which usually includes holding hands."

"Can't we just be fighting?"

"If she thinks that we're fighting she'll come over and ask what's wrong. Trust me." He shuddered.

"I'm sure it'll be fine if we hold hands in public, it's not like Rita Skeeter follows me around anymore."

"Maybe you should just go shopping alone."

"Maybe _you_ should go alone."

"Yeah right, you'll criticise every purchase that I make."

"Well I'm not going alone, you're the potions genius here."

"Can I get that in writing? I like the sound of 'potions genius'."

"Let's go to lunch with Ernie at St. Mungo's and we'll head for Diagon Alley afterward."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. It's already half past noon. We'll be lucky to catch him." Hermione picked Nymphadora up and placed her on the ground. She did the same with Crookshanks and sat up. Hermione stood and offered Draco a hand, who was still seated with his book open in his lap. "Shall we?"

Draco sighed. "You better hope that no one sees us Granger."

"No one will believe that we're 'dating' anyhow. They'd have to get a photo."

"Lower your voice, the balcony is open."

"You're unnecessarily paranoid, Malfoy. No one is listening in on us."

"Granger, do not underestimate my mother."

Hermione just shrugged. She pulled Draco to his feet and onto the balcony. "Bye cats!" she said cheerily before turning on the spot.

* * *

Rita Skeeter was disguised as an elderly witch with a cane. Her disguise was almost perfect, except that she kept reaching up to push up her horn-rimmed glasses which were no longer needed in her present disguise. She slowly followed the young couple and watched in delight as the Malfoy boy took Hermione Granger's (war hero, brightest witch of her age) hand. Her small Muggle camera clicked silently. Rita hobbled after the couple as they entered _Slugg and Jiggers Apothecary_.

_Why are these two brewing a potion? Perhaps the Malfoy boy is bewitching the woman with amortentia…_

Rita wished that she were able to use her quick notes quill so that she could take accurate notes of everything that she was seeing. As it were she kept muttering under her breath. She squeezed into the small crowded shop to see the two of them wandering, seemingly aimlessly. Because it was a small shop, Rita parked herself in front of the 'aches and pains for the elderly' section and pretended to compare prices and quality between two different potion brands.

"What do you say Granger, want some potion to smooth your hair?" Malfoy asked with a chuckle. Rita glanced back and noticed that they were no longer holding hands.

"My hair is perfectly fine as is, thank you very much," she snapped.

_Trouble in paradise?_ They wandered over to the potion ingredient section. Rita could not see what they were grabbing without clearly revealing the fact that she was watching them. So she contented herself to watch their backs.

From the couple's stance it was obvious that they were indeed a couple. They both had their bodies slightly inclined to one another and their hands would graze each other's every so often. When they wanted to point something out to the other they would lean in conspiratorially and touch the discreetly snapped another picture of Hermione leaning into Draco and pointing up at a shelf that she couldn't reach. Rita thought that it said eye of newt. She took another of Draco reaching up for it. The couple seemed to have concluded their business for the day and turned to leave.

Rita followed them to the cashier and noticed that they had put some distance between the two of began to pull out his money purse when Hermione stepped in front of him.

"All work purchases must be made with work money."

"Why not save St. Mungo's some money?"

"Because you pay everywhere we go."

'_Everywhere we go?' Meaning that they have bought things together on several occasions_.

"Sorry Harold," Draco said sympathetically to the cashier, "She always gets like this. Can't stand that I have more money than her."

"I don't care that you have more money than I do! I just think that it's only fair that I pay this time."

"Just let me pay, Granger. I will get St. Mungo's to reimburse me next Monday. I know that you're not actually using money from the hospital, you're just going to do the same thing as me."

_What are they buying for work? They don't even work on the same floor._

Hermione huffed. "You better get reimbursed on Monday," she muttered and stepped aside as Draco laid several galleons too many in front of the cashier.

"Malfoy, that's way more than enough."

"Is it?" he asked lightly, taking the bags that Harold offered him. "Shall we?" he asked.

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him. "You're not going to get reimbursed are you?"

"Granger, you're holding up the line."

Rita reminded herself to remain calm as the couple glanced in her direction.

"Sorry ma'am," Hermione said and Rita was distinctly insulted that she was being called 'ma'am' until she remembered that she looked like an old woman. Hermione walked out of the door thanking Harold and ignoring Draco who held the door open for her.

"On second thought, I have enough potion at home. Thanks dearie," Rita said placing the overpriced jar onto the table and scuttling after the couple. She was expecting to see them arguing, but her jaw nearly dropped as she watched Draco hand Hermione an ice cream cone. Her camera clicked silently several times as the couple happily ate ice cream on a warm fall day. _This could make front page of _Witch Weekly_ and maybe page three of _the Prophet_… I am going to be so rich from this story. Thank Merlin for that anonymous tip this morning…_

Rita continued to take photos from her hidden camera as the couple walked the majority of Diagon Alley eating their ice cream. As they neared the Leaky Cauldron, Draco took Hermione's hand in his and smiled down at her while she continued to happily lick her cone, a smile on her face. Rita could have sworn that she saw a shimmering blue light for a second. _That's the front page_. They disappeared a moment later.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen: Trial and Error

Draco had spent the night alone in his king side bed tossing and turning. Sleeping on the couch with Granger the night before was a bad idea because he apparently became accustomed to her presence far too easily. He was therefore wide awake when seven o'clock rolled around and someone was banging relentlessly on his balcony door. Draco got out of bed yawning and walked over to his balcony, convinced that Hermione was off her rocker and had thought up something genius overnight.

He was startled to see Pansy Parkinson standing on his large balcony bathed in the morning light. She was wearing a pink fluffy robe and matching slippers. Draco opened the door with a wave of his wand and walked toward his kitchen to make tea.

"What do you want Pansy?" he called over his shoulder.

"What the bloody hell is this? You don't even tell your best mate before you tell the world?" she demanded.

Draco turned around confused and was met with a large image of himself and Hermione. He was looking down at her with a smile while she ate her ice cream cone. A large heart had been drawn around the couple and "Witch Weekly" was printed boldly at the top of the picture, with the subtitle: "War heroine dates ex-Death Eater."

Draco looked at the image not fully comprehending what he was seeing. He took the magazine from Pansy and stared at it dumbfounded.

"I had my suspicions, I did. But I didn't think—oh that explains Hermione's sex glow! I can't believe you didn't tell me! Do you think it wise to be so public about this?" Pansy seemed to calm down slightly and was now pacing, concerned. "Have you spoken to the wonder twins? I really don't see Ron Weasley being okay with the two of you shagging."

"We're not shagging," Draco corrected as he turned to pages 3-6 which featured even more images of the couple looking very much like a couple. He stared down at the one where he reached for her hand and she willingly took his. In the photo she glanced at him and as she did so you could see her smiling.

"Well these pictures certainly seem to contradict that!"

"I don't understand…"

"When did this happen? How long has this been going on? Draco!"

Draco, whose mind had gone oddly blank looked up at Pansy. "What?"

"Are you dating Hermione?"

"I need tea," he said in way of response and headed into his kitchen, Pansy hot on his tail.

"It's a simple question," she insisted.

"My mother thinks that we're seeing each other."

"Oh."

"So, we were going to pretend to be seeing one another until this Saturday when we're done our project. Because under no circumstances is she to know what Granger and I are researching," he threatened.

"Mate, I don't even know what you're researching. Calm down, Narcissa Malfoy cannot crack me." Draco poured himself a large glass of earl grey and stirred it insistently. "So you and Granger are just pretending to be interested in one another. You're not actually interested in one another?"

Draco hesitated (for a fraction of a second) and Pansy freaked out.

"YOU LIKE HER?!"

"I didn't say tha—"

"MY GOD YOU DO! THAT'S WHY YOU'RE NOT SHAGGING, 'CAUSE YOU'RE TAKING IT SLOW!"

"Pansy for the love of—"

"YOU AND GRANGER!"

"SHUT IT!" he roared. "You'll wake the whole neighbourhood," he said in a more calm voice. Draco took a large gulp of steaming tea and burnt his tongue. "Yes me and Granger," he muttered. "But it's only physical, and she doesn't want it to be romantic, that's why we're not shagging."

"But you don't want it to be only physical do you?" she nudged him teasingly.

"Pansy, I—"

"Draco!" Hermione shouted as she landed on his balcony and walked through the open doors. The panic was evident in her voice.

"Bugger. Not a word, Pansy," he warned under his breath.

Hermione walked into the kitchen also brandishing a newspaper. This one was _The Prophet_. "We're on the front page!" she screeched.

Pansy snatched the paper from her and began reading the small article attached to it. She flipped to a few pages later and read the larger article while Hermione confronted Draco.

"Why are we in the paper?"

"Because we underestimated my mother."

"Last time I checked Narcissa Malfoy was not the author of that article. And trust me I checked."

"No, Rita Skeeter is," Pansy chimed in helpfully. "She also wrote the one in _Witch Weekly_."

Hermione groaned and leaned against the marble counter. "We're in _Witch Weekly_ too?"

"Secret's out Grangie."

Hermione looked significantly at Pansy who was still reading fervently then back to Draco. He shook his head slightly.

"Ron and Harry!" Hermione shouted out in horror, suddenly remembering her best friends. It was at that moment that shouting could be heard coming from outside.

"Hermione! We know you're in there! We looked up your apparition point at the Ministry!" Ron shouted from her balcony.

"We're not mad, we just want to talk!" Harry joined in.

"We are mad!" Ron corrected for him.

"Hermione open up!"

Hermione's eyes were wide as she stared at Draco. "Please don't make me go out there."

"Pansy can you give us a moment. Go over to the golden twins and tell them to shut their large mouths before we have the Muggle police telling us to be quiet."

Hermione waved her wand, unwarding her flat for Pansy. For once Pansy didn't argue, she did however give Draco a look that clearly stated that they would be talking more later. Once they heard the balcony doors slide shut Draco started talking.

"What are we going to tell them?"

"I don't know Draco. I hate lying, I'm shit at it."

"Okay, so we stick to our main lie, we're posing for my mother who thinks that we're dating because you antagonised her while we were working on our research project. We're breaking up this weekend."

"Why could this have not waited until next Monday?" she groaned.

"Because it's my mother, Granger."

"I can't believe she got Rita Skeeter. You're right, I do need to speak quieter when the balcony doors are open."

"Now that's something I like to hear: 'I'm right'. You should really say it more often, Granger."

"Now is hardly the time to be joking, Malfoy."

"Okay, let's go face the jury shall we?" he offered her his hand.

"It's probably best if we don't appear in my flat holding hands, especially because we're both still in our pyjamas." She looked him over then and Draco could see her eyes glaze over when she realised that he was topless. "And maybe you should put on a shirt." She sounded as if that was exactly the opposite of what she wanted him to do.

"It seemed like you were enjoying the view, Granger."

"Just put on some clothes, Malfoy!" Draco smirked and left to put on a random shirt which happened to be his old Quidditch jersey, a complete coincidence, he was in no way trying to rub the fact that Hermione was dating a Slytherin in the face of her two best mates. No he wasn't trying to do that at all.

He disapparated to Hermione's flat a second after she left his. Upon landing he remarked that disapparating alone was distinctly more unpleasant than disapparating with someone, namely with Hermione. He reached for her hand again when he landed beside her, but she batted it away subtly and walked into her flat to see Pansy Parkinson telling her two best friends off.

"…And Draco is an amazing bloke, Hermione is lucky to be with him! So why don't you curb your blood prejudice and your past with him; he's not a bully anymore and he never wanted to be a Death Eater. He's entitled to see whomever he wants and as it happens Hermione wants to see him too. Don't you, Hermione?" she demanded as Hermione walked in beside Draco. She didn't give Hermione the chance to answer before she carried on.

Draco quickly gathered that Pansy was lying to Potter and Weasley. She was telling them that he and Hermione were truthfully together. Draco was confused, but never one to reveal his true feelings, he reached for Hermione's hand and this time she didn't bat it away. He pulled her closer to him and walked slowly over to stand beside Pansy as she continued to lay into the ashamed looking boys on the sofa.

"And Draco is even helping Hermione with her little 'Miracle Squad' and healing Muggles every week out of the goodness of his goddamn heart. Not to mention he's paying to have the Muggle clinic installed in St. Mungo's!"

"You're what?" Hermione was incredulous.

Draco glared at Pansy. "I was going to tell you tomorrow night…" which wasn't a lie, he thought Paris would be a grand place to reveal the fact that he was financing her dreams. And no, it wasn't romantic, it was just a nice setting for good news, Draco Malfoy certainly did not want to be romantic toward Hermione Granger.

"Draco…" Hermione was shaking her head and smiling at him in disbelief. Draco was more than surprised when she launched herself into his arms shouting: "Thank you!"

Draco glanced down at Potter, who looked mildly disturbed by their affectionate exchange, and Weasley, who looked downright pissed. Draco for his part felt distinctly uncomfortable, but oddly proud, hugging Hermione in front of them.

"So there it is. Hermione and Draco are together. There's no need to yell about it. In fact all that I should be hearing from the both of you is 'congratulations' to the happy couple. Who, because of you two gits, were too afraid to come out about their relationship. And this is not the first pair of lovers that you've shamed into silence. For instance, Ginny and Blaise," Pansy continued.

"Ginny and Blaise?" Ron croaked.

"Oh, I thought they'd already talked to you about that… surprise!" Pansy laughed awkwardly. "Now, say congratulations and go back to getting ready for work."

"Pansy…" Hermione started.

"No Hermione, you did not hear the rude things that they were saying about the both of you before you arrived! Say it!" Pansy threatened, her hands on her hips.

Draco almost felt bad for the two prats; Pansy, even in her pink fluffy robe and slippers, cut an intimidating figure. He almost felt sorry for them, almost.

Potter rose to his feet first. "Congratulations I suppose…Hermione we'll talk later, yeah?"

"About all good things I trust," Pansy threatened while smiling cheerfully.

Potter gulped. "Of course," he said stiffly.

Weasley rose after him, his face hot with indignation. "Congratulations…" was all he managed to say before stalking to the balcony after Potter.

Pansy smiled to herself. "Well, you're welcome. Now you two can be as couple-y as you want."

"We don't want…" Hermione rushed to say.

"Sure you don't, Hermione. You two may be able to lie to yourselves, but you can't lie to me. Everyone thinks that you're together now. You have until Saturday to figure it out. Oh, and have fun in Paris tomorrow, I am so jealous. Dray never took me to Paris when we were at school," she pouted before walking out of Hermione's flat.

Hermione still had her hand entwined in Draco's as the balcony doors slid shut and Pansy disappeared. She felt heat rise to her cheeks at Pansy's words.

Draco cleared his throat. "I'm not sure why she lied, so don't bother asking."

"I can't believe that the private donator is you!" Hermione said forgetting about Pansy's little speech. "Bonham only owled me Friday that the new wing had been approved. How did you even know about it? I was going to start fundraising on Monday when he told me that someone had already approached him to fundraise the project…" she turned to him and looked into his stormy grey eyes. "I know that I usually hate when you pay for things, but I am more than okay with you paying for this, at least whatever I can't fundraise."

Hermione impulsively wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to meet her lips tenderly. Her whole body was humming as their lips moved against each other's gently. Her heart was pounding fiercely despite how softly they were kissing. Draco's hands were around her hips suddenly pulling her closer to him. Hermione groaned as their soft kiss quickly escalated into a bruising one and she somehow found herself straddling Draco on her sofa a few minutes later, not fully aware of the fact that they had moved there. The kiss slowed down and Draco pulled back to lightly cover her neck with kisses. Hermione hummed in enjoyment. She knew that they shouldn't be exchanging these soft kisses that made butterflies rampage in her stomach, but she couldn't bring herself to pull away. Draco pecked her on the lips lightly and pulled away from her slowly. Both of their breathing was ragged.

Draco started to talk, but Hermione cut him off: "Don't apologise."

He nodded mutely.

"Perhaps we should have breakfast in, instead of at Paul's given the fact that we will most likely be bombarded by paparazzi," she suggested, pulling herself off of him.

"I can cook," Draco agreed, offering Hermione his hand so that they could apparate together back to his flat.

Hermione resolutely ignored the tingling in her hand and the butterflies in her stomach whenever she looked at Draco. She also ignored the fact that she was overjoyed that she and Draco could act like a couple in front of her friends. But above all she ignored how quickly Saturday was approaching. She, instead, ate her waffles with Draco in their usual silence with a large smile on her face and a book in her hand.

* * *

Ron Weasley was pacing in front of Harry Potter in the Auror office at the Ministry.

"I just find it odd that Hermione wouldn't tell us herself," he was saying.

"Pansy's right, we made them afraid of being open."

"Bullshit. They're hiding something here, I can tell."

"Ron, I'm just as shaken as you, but you saw the pictures, you saw the way they looked at each other this morning. They like each other. Anyway lunch was over like an hour ago, I should probably get back to filling out this report."

Ron sighed, but returned to his office and closed the door. He almost screamed when he saw Pansy Parkinson sitting on his desk in a short black pleated skirt, a tight red jumper and spiked heels. Her short hair hung straight as per usual (_Why am I aware how Pansy Parkinson usually wears her hair?_).

"Mr. Weasley, always a pleasure," she greeted.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in here?"

"You should really reinforce your wards," she suggested with a smile, twirling her wand. "I am astounded that you survived the war. It must be because Hermione Granger spoon fed you spells. Speaking of Hermione… I do hope that you're not doing anything drastic in regards to Draco and Hermione."

"Shouldn't you be at work or something?"

"If you must know, I'm having an extended lunch. Owning your own business works like that. As I was saying, you're not going to be doing anything stupid that I'll have to punish you for, are you?" She seemed to be looking forward to the idea of punishing him.

Ron was distinctly intimidated by the short brunette. "N-n-no, of course not," he stuttered.

Pansy smiled evilly. "Good," she said sweet as sugar. "And Blaise and Ginny dearest?"

"I'll leave them be," he said quickly.

Pansy stood and walked toward Ron slowly, who stepped back until his back hit the door.

"Good boy," she reached out and brushed an invisible speck of dirt off of his shoulder. "About the other night, Weasley." Ron gulped. "It so happens that Draco made the potion so that I could remember what happened as time passed. And I now remember that you are a surprisingly nice guy." Pansy's threatening demeanour dropped for a moment and she looked vulnerable to Ron. As quickly as her vulnerability came, it left and she said with quiet conviction: "I'll have to thank you for that sometime." She reached behind him to open his door. "Oh, and I meant what I said." Pansy, who was almost his height with her killer heels whispered into his ear, "I'd still fuck you sober." And with that she left.

Ron stood in front of his door breathing heavily. He couldn't tell if he was afraid that Pansy wanted to thank him or not. But he did know that he was quite turned on at the moment. He summoned a cool glass of water and thought about Voldemort naked. _That did the trick_. Ron picked up his quill and sighed as he continued to write his report about a recent break-in. _When did the world go all topsy turvy?_

* * *

"You're sure that this'll be ready for tomorrow? What if it doesn't work? What if we added the wrong ingredients?"

"Deep breaths Granger, we're going to be running several trial tests before letting the Muggle—"

"Lucy, her name is Lucy."

"Before we let Lucy taste any of it."

"And you're sure that the tests will work? What if they miss something? What if we kill her, Draco?"

Draco took Hermione's hand to stop her pacing. "Hermione," he said while looking her in the eyes and sending shivers down her spine, "it's going to fine."

Hermione nodded. "But—"

"Will you please shut up?"

"No, but seriously—"

Draco cut her off by shoving her against the wall of his office and attaching his lips to hers. Hermione sighed into his soft lips. Her hands were tangled in his hair with seconds and she was hot as a freshly brewed cup of tea. Draco pulled away to kiss his way up and down her neck, as was his prerogative.

"You can't just. Kiss me every. Time you want. Me to shut. Up…" she said between groans.

"Watch me," he challenged huskily and planted his lips back on her own, sliding his tongue smoothly into her mouth. Draco hitched her leg up around his waist and ground against her slowly. His kiss slowed down to match the pace of his hips. Before long he was sucking on her neck again and Hermione was groaning embarrassingly loudly.

Hermione's eyes were open, so she noticed almost immediately (okay there was about a five second delay, but in her defense Draco's lips were attached to her neck right above her pulse and his hips were pressed up against hers and…back on topic:) when Pansy waltzed into Draco's office. "Draco!" Hermione shouted, her voice cracking as she pushed him away. "I mean, Malfoy," she corrected too late and Pansy watched with a hand on her hip and a perfectly manicured eyebrow arched.

Draco turned around to see Pansy. He looked back at Hermione and sighed. "Do you ever knock?" he drawled as he turned away from her to straighten Hermione's clothes.

"Do you ever ward your flat anymore?" she countered. "A closed door gathers no unwanted guests," she added wisely. _Unless your wards are as terrible as Ron's, then everyone and their hippogriff could get in._

Hermione didn't understand how he kept such a cool mask during moments like this ("moments like this" meaning whenever he was horny and caught in the act—which seemed to be happening more than Hermione would have liked). He winked at her before turning around to face Pansy properly and straighten his own clothes.

"To what do we owe this pleasure, Pansy? Shouldn't you be at work?" Draco asked, leaning against the wall as if completely unfazed by her presence.

"I took an extended lunch."

"How nice for you. What do you want?" Draco asked rudely.

"I will excuse your rudeness because I know that I interrupted your little snog fest that was probably taking a turn toward hand job central, but you need to know a few things. First of all, you should know that I have been solicited by many reporters to give them the inside scoop on your relationship. My response was of course along the line of 'bugger off'. Secondly, I have neutralised the Potter/Weasley threat. Third of all, you should really lock your balcony doors or some reporter could wander in and also because I could hear Granger from the alleyway." Hermione blushed fiercely and continued to stare at the ground near Pansy's talons. "Fourthly, just for future reference, everything at my store is 50% off for my favourite fake couple." She winked suggestively here, which Hermione did not understand seeing as she didn't actually know what Pansy did for a living. "Seriously. Everything." She turned to leave. "You're welcome." She stopped in the doorway and added as an afterthought, "there's no one here watching you in your personal office, so I'm just a little confused as to _who_ you're both acting for right now…because you're in a fake relationship…right?" she smirked and clacked her way out of the flat. How Hermione did not hear her noisy approach spoke volumes about how one tracked her mind could get when Draco was pressed against her.

"You really need to lock your balcony doors."

"You're the one that leaves them open."

"As if, you leave them open when you go for your smokes."

"I don't even smoke anymore."

"Yes you do."

"No, it's been three days since my last one."

Hermione looked at him and smiled. "All the better, because it is just terrible for your health."

"Therefore, I am correct; it's your fault that the door is always left open."

"What business does Pansy own?" Hermione asked changing the topic.

Draco chuckled. "It'll make you blush."

Hermione started blushing when he said that, having an inkling about what the brunette peddled. "What is it?" she asked anyway.

"Sex shop, of course."

Hermione blushed more. "That explains so much about her personality…"

"Told you you'd blush," he teased.

"Fifty percent is a good deal," Hermione considered, somewhat genuinely.

Draco coughed on his own spit. "Excuse me, is Miss Saint Granger suggesting that we go and buy sex toys? Get your jacket dear, we're going shopping," Draco joked. Well Hermione thought that he was joking, but he looked a tad serious.

"Okay, study time?" she asked.

Draco groaned. "Leave it to Pansy to kill the mood."

Hermione, feeling rash, said, "Let's watch a movie tonight." She hoped that he understood her implications of that statement.

"By watch a movie you really mean…" Draco raised an eyebrow.

Hermione rolled her eyes. He clearly caught her meaning, but just to confuse him she said, "I mean let's watch a movie. I need to educate you on Muggle pop culture."

"What on earth is pop culture? Do people sit around drinking those soda beverages? Don't tell me some Muggles worship those sugary drinks."

Hermione laughed loudly as they walked into his living room. "Unfortunately some do, but not in the same way that you're thinking." She then launched into an explanation about pop culture. She didn't notice that Draco was not paying attention to the words that she was saying, but just staring at her while she spoke. She didn't notice that he kept eyeing the hickey that he had given her proudly. And she especially didn't the beetle on the outer window of Draco's balcony.

* * *

Draco closed his curtains with a flick of his wand and wrapped his arm around Hermione who was pressed against his side. She rested her head on his shoulder and Draco thought that he could get used to this as the opening credits began to roll of "Jurassic Park".

"Granger, what is this movie about?" he asked suspiciously.

She shushed him and turned her attention back to the screen, shoving popcorn in her mouth. "You'll see."

Draco ended up being scared shitless by the fake dinosaurs on screen. Say what you will about Muggles, they could create almost anything and make it look real. He pulled Hermione closer when the raptors got loose. She chuckled, knowing that he was afraid, but said nothing. Draco had never been more stressed about a movie. When it finally ended he sighed in relief and turned off the television.

"That was torture. Why do Muggles put themselves through that level of suspense?"

"You're such a little baby," Hermione said with her head still resting on his shoulder.

"I assure you, I am not little," he said looking down at her.

Hermione blushed and surprised Draco by saying, "Oh I know, did you forget?" she waved her hand in front of his face. He would not be forgetting her glorious handiwork any time soon. "Given what we were just talking about, this may seem misleading, but know that I mean this platonically: can I sleep over tonight?"

Draco didn't like the word platonic when it concerned Hermione. However, he would enjoy her warming his bed again. "Of course. I promise, no funny business."

Hermione looked down shyly and back up at him, her brown eyes looking black in the darkness of his living room. "Well, maybe some funny business…"

Draco grinned and stood up abruptly. "I'm heading to bed, honey," he winked.

Draco brushed his teeth in his en suite and tore off his shirt and pants, tossing them to the floor carelessly. As he left the bathroom he ran into Hermione. She eyed his body up and down and swore softly. Draco casually lift her up and tossed her onto his large bed. He slammed the door shut in front of Nymphadora and travelled up the length of Hermione slowly until he was lying beside her.

"I think you might be a little over dressed for sleep."

She glanced down at her jeans and jumper combo and his silk boxers. She bit her lip. "Maybe…"

"Or you're wearing just the right thing. Whatever you want," he said seriously.

"Well I don't like sleeping in jeans…Do you mind helping?"

Draco held back a groan. _She wants me to undress her_. "Not at all Miss Granger." Draco tried to keep his voice from cracking and sounding very smooth, but failed miserably. None the less he undid her black jeans and slid them down her hips, she lift her bum so that he could pull them off of her. Draco trailed down her legs and tossed the jeans to the floor. He kissed his way back up her legs and boldly placed a kiss on her cotton-clad mound. Hermione groaned loudly. Although he wanted to stay there, he returned to his spot lying beside her on his side.

"Better?"

Hermione gulped and her breathing accelerated. "I am a bit hot…the jumper?"

Draco nodded, his eyes alight. "As the lady wishes." He spread her legs so that he sat between them and pulled her into an upright position. Draco slipped his hands under her jumper and kissed her neck and he lifted it up her body incredibly slowly. He pulled away from her neck, only for enough time to take her jumper off, and reattached himself moments later. He lowered them back to his comfortable bed and kissed his way down to her breast constrained by the shackles of her plain bra. Hermione's breath hitched loudly as he licked along the line of her bra then blew on it, making her flesh pimple. Draco smiled and pulled back, not wanting to push her into taking her bra off if she didn't want to. Even if he was dying to see her breasts and take one into his mouth.

"Why did you stop?" she demanded.

"So that's a yes to removing your bra then?" he smirked.

"You're so thick sometimes," she complained and removed it herself with amazing speed. She laid back down, a faint blush on her face. "Continue please," she ordered without looking him in the eyes.

Draco nearly growled in delight. Her breasts were small, as he knew, her nipples a rosy pink and hard as rocks. Draco smiled and softly latched onto her left breast. His other hand wandered between them and underneath her panties with a precision like it was his day job and he owned, no, founded, the company.

"Merlin," Hermione groaned as his fingers played with her clit lightly.

Her back arched up against Draco's face. He nibbled on her breast and moved to the next one. Hermione whimpered as he bit it lightly. Draco, who was quite flushed himself, pulled back suddenly, to the apparent displeasure of Hermione.

"You seem to think this teasing thing is—" she started to complain.

"Where's your vibrator?" he asked huskily.

"Draco we're not—you're not using my—" _At least she finally admits to owning one..._

"Well can I go down on you then?" he asked impatiently and somewhat annoyed at her resistance; she _was_ going to enjoy it after all.

Hermione flushed even more, but nodded mutely while biting her lip.

Draco grinned broadly. Seeing her fully naked was like finding the Holy Grail; unlikely and something that would go down in history. He slid her pink cotton underwear off of her body and tossed them to the floor haphazardly. Draco slid his arms up her legs and spread her open for him. He rested his head an inch away from her core breathing her in and memorizing her folds.

"Draco," Hermione said raggedly, interrupting his inspection, "are you smelling me? Because that's weird."

"Shh Grangie, you just lay there and relax, trust me when I say that you're going to enjoy this."

"Well can you get on with it? You just staring at me is—_oh_," she groaned as Draco's tongue flicked out and lightly licked up her slit.

Draco slipped a finger into her wet cavern, pumping it in and out slowly while his tongue circled around her clit just as slowly. Draco slid in another finger and sped up the pace, latching onto her clit directly with his mouth and sucking on it insistently. Hermione's hand thrust itself into his hair to hold him in place, while her legs wrapped around his neck. Her hips began moving erratically against his face, and Draco had to hold her down so that he could continue to trail his tongue across her.

"Dray…co…you're…nnngh…I'm…yes…"

Draco bit her clit lightly while curling his fingers within her at the same time. That did the trick; Hermione's whole body froze as she groaned incoherently through the crest of her orgasm. She clamped down on his fingers and pulled them even deeper within her. Draco continued to lick her centre slowly as she rode out the waves for, if he did say so himself, an impressively long time. His erection twitched to match each wave of her orgasm, something that freaked him out ever so slightly. Draco pulled out his fingers and licked them clean with a smug grin on his face. When he looked up at Hermione, though, he saw tears on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked while pulling himself to lie beside her.

Hermione shook her head no. "Nothing," she said faintly staring at the ceiling blankly. She wiped away the tears resolutely. "Nothing," she said with more conviction.

Draco felt very uneasy; he had never made a girl cry in bed before. "What did I do? You could have told me to stop. I'm so sorry Hermione."

Hermione turned to face him. "You always apologise when you shouldn't and never do when you should," she said with a smile. "That was amazing Malfoy, the best…I've ever had," she admitted shyly.

"But you were crying."

"Because you're so bloody good."

"I made you cum so hard you cried?" Draco asked in awe of himself. "That's a first."

"Tell me about it," she muttered. Hermione shifted, pushing Draco onto his back and straddling his waist. He looked up at her glorious naked body and almost sighed in delight. Hermione slipped her hand down his boxers and began stroking him deftly. Draco had not been expecting her forwardness groaned loudly, his head pushing back against his pillows. "Draco?" she asked. Draco just nodded. "How many people have you slept with?" she stopped her hand movements, but kept her grasp on him.

"Huh?" _why is she stopping?_

"How many people have you slept with?" she flexed her hand slightly and Draco groaned.

"Granger, I'm sure this is coercion or something, so why don't we have this little conversation at a later date? Say never?"

"Answer me or I'm leaving."

"Blackmail? No. Intimidation?" he questioned.

"And how do you always stay so bloody calm even when I know how turned on you are?"

"It's a pureblood thing, you wouldn't understand."

She glared at him and tightened her grip. "Tell me."

"Why?" Draco realised that he was in a very vulnerable position at the moment, but old habits die hard.

"Because I want to know why you're so good in bed," she admitted while blushing fiercely. "And my conclusion is that you've had a lot of sexual partners, and I wanted to know how many, and I know you would never tell me were I not currently gripping onto your most prized possession. Now tell me."

Draco smirked. It was always a nice boost to the ego when someone complimented his sexual prowess. "I read a lot, remember?"

"Stop being a dick," she threatened.

"I've slept with more than one person." She glared at him so he added, "Okay, okay…over seven."

"That is way too vague! Really? Over seven?" she seemed surprised. "How many over seven?"

"How many people have you slept with?"

"Three…well two and a half."

"Two and a half? How have you slept with two and a half people?" Then it dawned on him. "Oh, counting me."

"You weren't counting me in your number?"

"Look, Granger, does it really matter? No, all you need to know is that I am very sexually skilled and more than willing to show you those skills. And it is very hard to concentrate on this conversation when you sitting on me, completely naked, holding my dick. So why don't we have a rain check on this and you just continue to move your little hand," he suggested.

Hermione, surprisingly, obliging began to stroke him again. Before Draco knew what was happening her mouth was wrapped around the tip of his length and sliding down almost all the way to the bottom. Draco breathed in sharply as he watched her bob up and down on him. Hermione looked up at him and held eye contact she continued to shallow his length. Draco panted loudly as they stared into each other's eyes. He was already close when she started cupping his balls. Hermione never broke eye contact as Draco started to swear quietly. He gripped the sheets around him tightly, his hips thrusting up ever so slightly to match her rhythm. Hermione reached up with her free hand and trailed it along his abs. For some reason it was this that sent him careening over the edge and into Hermione's mouth. She seemed to be vibrating with pleasure himself as she licked him clean. As Draco came down he realised that she had rolled off of him and was laying on her back staring at the ceiling.

"Are you sure you've only slept with two and a half people?" he questioned breathlessly.

"That was my first time doing that…" she admitted quietly. "Was I…?"

"Draco pulled her so that she was laying half on him. "Where on earth did you learn that if it's your first time giving a blowjob?"

"I read a lot, remember?"

_Snarky little tart_. "That you do," he chuckled. "You were, as usual, outstanding," he reassured her. "Do you want me to return the favour again? I hate to leave you hanging."

She shook her head no and mumbled, "I—er—when you…"

"Again? You really do get off on getting other people off, Granger," he smirked. She pulled away and vacated the bed. Draco sat up very confused with his heart sinking. "Are you—leaving?" he asked uncertainly. _Idiot, you had to tease her, didn't you?_

She was bending down and picking up her undergarments from the floor, which was a very nice view, but he preferred her in his bed, not out of it.

"I'm just going to put on my underwear, I feel awkward sleeping naked." She pulled on her underclothes quickly, hiding the amazing view. She then threw his boxers at him. "Do you mind? I just…"

Draco nodded and put them on quickly, afraid that she might leave. He patted the bed beside him and she crawled over. Draco pulled her head onto his chest and began playing with her hair lightly.

"I'm really excited to try our potion out tomorrow," she said against his chest.

"Me too," Draco agreed, feeling a whooping sensation in his stomach when she said 'our' in relation to him. "It's going to work, Hermione."

"If it doesn't, it's your fault mister potions genius sir." Draco chuckled lightly. Hermione's hand found his and she joined them. "Good night Draco."

"Good night Hermione." Her breath was already evening out. Her peaceful sleeping face was the last thing that he remembered before falling into dream about a large blue house near the ocean and little blond children running around him.

* * *

Draco was once again awoken to someone knocking on his balcony doors. He opened his eyes blearily to see Hermione staring up at him, not looking tired at all; she must have been awake for a while now…odd. Their hands were still joined and Draco looked down at them questioningly. Hermione quickly dropped his hand and scooted away from him, she looked slightly embarrassed.

Draco stretched and yawned loudly. He glanced back at Hermione who looked a little lost in his large bed and sleepily stumbled out of his room toward the balcony. He opened the curtain and the door sans magic as he had forgotten his wand in the bathroom last night when he was brushing his teeth. He was greeted by his mother. Draco groaned in annoyance.

"Must you insist on bothering me, mother?"

"Draco! I raised you better than that," she scolded as she sauntered into his living room.

Draco then noticed that he had forgotten his bedroom door wide open with a mostly naked Hermione sitting on his bed. Narcissa glanced into the room, but was unable to see anything.

"I can't believe you're still in bed at this hour." She snapped her fingers and Winky appeared with a large platter of scones, biscuits and tea.

"Mother, it's seven in the morning."

"I would have thought that you'd be up earlier considering you'll have to leave work early today for your trip to Paris with Hermione. Good morning Hermione!" she called into the bedroom.

After a moment's pause Hermione called back, "Good morning Narcissa!"

"Why don't you go ahead and put one of Draco's robes on dear and join us for breakfast," Narcissa suggested. She turned her attention back to Draco. "Darling, I must say, I am surprised that you went to the papers about your relationship, I was under the impression that even your friends didn't know."

"Don't 'darling' me, mother. I know that you got Rita Skeeter involved somehow."

"I really haven't the faintest clue as to what you are referring." She pulled out a framed picture from the front page of _With Weekly_. "Although, I do have a gift for the happy couple. I feared that you two were only interested in one another physically, but this picture just proves me wrong. Look at the adoration in your eyes." Narcissa placed it on the side table beside her armchair and Draco stared at it with a blank look on his face.

Hermione walked into the room at that moment, her hair a terrible mess on the top of her head and a large white robe wrapped tightly around her body. Narcissa eyed her and concluded that they were in fact not sleeping together, as everyone else seemed to think. She sighed internally. _Why is my son suddenly taking things slowly?_

She walked over to Draco and in a very calculated move, sat on his lap, leaning back against his naked chest. _Such an amateur liar_. "How are you today, Narcissa?" she asked trying to appear unaffected by her presence, which Narcissa saw straight through. Hermione leaned down and pecked Draco on the lips.

Narcissa smiled at their fake romantic gestures. "I've brought your dress for you Hermione. It's from a Muggle designer, actually," she smiled at Hermione's surprise. "Now, promise not to open it until you get to the hotel. I want it to be a surprise to my son." Draco rolled his eyes at her. "In fact, it would probably be best to not open it until then," Narcissa emphasized.

"Have you cursed it if she tries to open it early, because that's something that Hermione should probably know." Draco wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

"Of course I haven't Draco."

"That means that she has, I suggest you just leave the dress here, love."

Narcissa smiled broadly at his term of endearment and the obvious effect that it had on Hermione who immediately looked flustered. Narcissa stood. She sensed that the couple were headed in the right direction and after tonight _à Paris_ things would progress according to her plans. _If Draco doesn't seal the deal tonight though…_

"Well I'll leave you two to it then. Enjoy the breakfast. Your reservation is for six, Paris time, which is seven here. Although you have to check in at the Relais Christine by four, which is five here. The Relais is a wizarding hotel. And if you want to get any sight-seeing done you should really be leaving London at three. And since I'm probably sure you did not pack anything yet, you should probably get a head start on your day." Narcissa tossed an elephant bone hair comb onto the coffee table. "This is your portkey. It leaves at two today and again tomorrow morning at seven. Enjoy!" she smiled and stalked out onto the balcony, Winky hot on her tail. _And don't use protection_, she willed them.

Narcissa watched as Draco kissed the side of Hermione's face before pushing her off of him so that he could grab a biscuit and a cup of tea. _Their relationship is as fake as my ass, which is 100% god-given real._

"I really wish she would visit less," Draco complained to Hermione.

"You should be happy that your mother wants to spend time with you."

"Especially when she gifts me things like cursed dresses."

Hermione rolled her eyes and took a large bite of a scone. Her eyes rolled back and she sighed in delight at the taste. "This is heaven."

"You look like you're enjoying that."

"Jealous?"

"Of a wheat-based treat? I've never been more jealous in my life."

Hermione chuckled. "I'm going to get dressed, then we'll run the tests on the potion?"

"Sounds good. Oh, and Granger, you might want to try and tame that rat's nest on your head," he suggested with a smirk.

"You're funny," she said humourlessly before disappearing to her flat.

* * *

"Stop touching your hair, Granger. I was just joking about the rat's nest," Draco said under his breath as they walked through the bright and depressing hospital hallways.

"No you weren't," Hermione whispered back.

"Okay, I wasn't. But it looks great now. You did that spell again didn't you? Seems a bit extravagant for healing a teenager…"

"We are going out tonight, remember?"

Draco had actually forgotten. "Touché."

The duo finally found E437b. "Remember, I am doing the talking. You're too likely to slip up," Hermione reminded him.

Hermione took a deep breath and opened the door. She walked in with Draco a few steps behind her. A small room with many beeping and blinking machines greeted them. Lucy sat in the middle of her hospital issue bed reading a book. It looked like science fiction of some sort. She looked a little worse for the wear: Her long black hair had a stringy quality to it, she had a few nasty looking bruises on her face and arms, and she was shaking ever so slightly.

"Hello Lucy," Hermione said brightly. "I am Doctor Granger, this is Doctor Malfoy. We're here today to try an experimental drug as previously discussed with your family a few weeks ago. There has been many trials of this drug and it is very promising. All that is required is for you to have a small dose of this liquefied version of the drug once a week."

Lucy did not speak at all while Hermione did, in fact she didn't seem to be paying any attention to Hermione at all. Despite this Hermione asked, "Are you ready to give it a try?"

"I'll give anything a try that will stop the seizures," she said without looking up. She turned the page. "You can leave it on the side table," she dismissed them.

Hermione took a seat in the visitor's chair and pulled it up to Lucy's bed. "Why do I get the feeling that you're not going to take this drug?"

"Probably because I won't."

_Straight to the point_. Hermione cleared her throat. "Why's that Lucy?"

"Maybe because you and all your little doctor friends have tried to heal me with therapy sessions, with pills, with shots, with holistic remedies. Maybe because I used to be the most popular girl in school and now I'm a dropout. Maybe because my mother can't look at me without breaking out into tears. Maybe it's better that I just choke on my tongue during one of my seizures." Throughout her speech Lucy had gone from angry to downright depressed. By the end of it she was wiping tears off of her face with shaking hands. "All because some asshole attacked me. And the worst part is that I don't even know what he did—" her voice cracked here and tears continued to stream down her face. "So that's why you 'get the feeling' that I won't drink whatever crackpot thing you tossers have dreamt up this time," she finished angrily.

Hermione wiped away a few tears from her eyes and had to steady her own shaking hands. Hermione took a deep breath to buy herself some time to come up with a response. Luckily, and very unpredictably, Draco came to the rescue.

"Lucy, we're not regular doctors. We're scientists, and we care. This drug _will_ help you get better, not just short term, but long term. It doesn't have any side effects that we know of—"

She scoffed and turned another page of her book. Draco sat down on the other side of Hermione and powered through, despite her obvious resentment.

"You may think that you're all alone right now. But you're not. This is your rock bottom. I've been there. I know what it feels like to wake up in the morning and feel as if the nightmare from the night before never ended. I know what it feels like to be alone, Lucy. So alone that it feels as if they'll never be anyone else again. So alone that it seems as if there is no point anymore." Hermione's eyes were riveted to Draco as his bore into Lucy's. "I've hit my rock bottom. And I crawled my way out of it, not alone, but with help. This is your rock bottom, and we're here to help you claw your way out of it. You're going to be able to go to sleep without fearing that you'll die from a seizure in the night. You're going to be able to think straight because you won't have headaches. You're going to be able to live again. But you have to help us help you."

A long silence filled the room when he stopped talking. Hermione's heart felt raw from Lucy and Draco's confessions. She watched as Draco pulled out the vial of bright pink potion and offered it to Lucy. She looked up at him and slowly closed her book. She stared into his eyes for a long time before slowly taking the vial from him. She fiddled with it before uncorking it.

"You promise that it gets better?" she asked in a weak voice as her body trembled.

Draco took her free hand in his and held onto it tightly. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Lucy nodded and brought the vial up to her lips with shaky fingers. She hesitated for a minute before downing it in one go.

"If I didn't know that you were underage I would say that you're a seasoned drinker to be able to do that in one shot," Draco said with a smile.

"I'm a teenager; we're all experienced drinkers, or so we like to tell ourselves," she smiled back shyly. Draco chuckled.

Hermione cleared her throat and tried to not sound too sappy when she issued Lucy the following instructions: "Please let us know if anything changes. Anything at all, you feel better you feel worse, you get an odd rash, you're extremely happy or sad. Anything. I've left our phone number with your regular nurses. And Lucy, you've been very brave here today."

Hermione stood along with Draco and headed for the door.

"Doctor Malfoy?" Lucy called, halting their progress. "What was your rock bottom?"

Hermione saw Draco stiffen slightly. He hesitated, because he was trying to think of a way to translate his story into Muggle or because he didn't want to share in front of Hermione, she was unsure, but he said eventually: "When my father went insane." He turned and walked out of the door ahead of Hermione.

Hermione began questioning whether or not she knew if Lucius Malfoy was literally insane or if Draco was referring to the fact that he was a devout follower of Voldemort. She jogged to catch up with him as he navigated his way out of the hospital without her. When she caught up with Draco, Hermione slid her hand into his and squeezed it briefly. He didn't look down at her, but she saw his shoulders relax. They walked out of the Muggle hospital together, hand in hand.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** A link to Hermione's dress from Narcissa can be found on my profile page.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: City Lights

Hermione had a small yellow backpack slung over her shoulders when Draco appeared from his room with a small suitcase in hand.

"I've brought over Crookshanks' food dish and filled it, I hope you don't mind that he stays the night with Nymph," she said.

"Apparently I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"Ready?" she asked nervously shifting her weight.

"I believe so. Did you grab the dress my mother left? It'll probably do something nasty if we don't bring it along with us."

"Yes, it's in my bag."

"Is that what you're wearing to the hotel?" he asked eyeing her jeans and jumper combination.

"Well I'm changing as soon as we get there anyhow," she retorted, offended.

"Granger, you can't show up like that."

"I can wear what I please, thank you very much."

"They won't let you in!"

"The portkey leaves in five minutes, I don't have time to think through an elaborate outfit. They'll just have to deal with it."

"Wear that pink dress that you own," he suggested.

"How do you know…?

"You modelled it for me. Now hurry, the portkey leaves soon."

Hermione dropped her bag to the ground and muttered under her breath as she left his flat. She ripped off her clothes quickly and pulled on the short pink dress. She also grabbed a pair of heels, just realising that the dress Narcissa bought her was probably meant to be worn with heels. She rushed back over to Draco's to see him pacing by the portkey hair comb.

"About bloody time. This thing is going to go off any second." He had her bag slung over his shoulder and his small suitcase in his other hand.

Hermione scuttled over to the portkey and grabbed onto it as it began to glow a bright blue. Draco looked over at the doors that she had left open and closed them with a quick wave of his wand. He grabbed onto the portkey a second before it came to life and spun them away in a swirl of colour.

When they landed shakily on their feet in a cobblestone courtyard Draco rounded on Hermione, "You almost left the doors open over night!"

"No I didn't!" she then realised that she in fact had left the doors open. "Oops."

"I told you it was you leaving the door open."

"It was one time!"

"I believe that brings us up to three times."

"Bon après-midi monsieur Malfoy, mademoiselle Granger. Bienvenue au Relais Christine. We are so happy to have you here with us for the evening. It is not every day that we host such well-known foreigners. Please, let Georges take your bags."

The man who cut off their argument must have been one of the receptionists for the hotel. He was wearing a three piece suit and too much hair product, but he seemed friendly enough. Georges appeared from behind him, also in a three piece suit, and floated their bags in front of him.

"My name is Aurélien and I will be your attendant for your time here. If you ever need anything, just press the red button by your door. I will show you it when we get upstairs."

Hermione took Draco's proffered hand and followed the French man through the large old courtyard and through massive oak doors into the lobby. The décor was amazing; chandeliers, gold trimming, marble, fountains, art… The lobby was abuzz with other hotel guests and the soft sounds of a piano could be heard filtering in from another room. Aurélien lead them to the large lifts that had cushioned benches installed in them and told them to sit. The ride up the elevator was a short one, but the feeling in Hermione's stomach made her believe that they had travelled many flights in fewer seconds.

As the doors dinged open Aurélien announced, "thirtieth floor, the penthouse suite," and Hermione's mouth opened in shock. Chandeliers, fabric wall-paper, centuries old loveseats, giant mirrors…It was too much for her to take in.

"You alright there, Hermione?" Draco asked lightly as Aurélien walked ahead of them telling them historical details of their suite that was bigger than Hermione's entire flat.

"It's so extravagant…"

"On several occasions the late Headmaster Dumbledore stayed with us. Once we hosted Gilderoy Lockhart here," Aurélien boasted.

_And now he's living in St. Mungo's…fame _is_ a fickle friend._

"And this if of course the bedroom," Aurélien said with a smile before opening two ornate wooden doors dramatically and walking inside.

A four poster bed with white sheer hangings dominated the majority of the room. There was a small sitting area near the doors to the balcony as well as what appeared to be a walk-in closet, a large bathroom—with a Jacuzzi tub!—was also attached to the room.

"I trust that you will enjoy your stay with us here at the Relais Christine. When you walked into the building your magical signatures were registered, so you may come and go as you please. However, in order to come up to the penthouse you must cast a standard _alohamora_ in the elevator. Only a spell cast from your wands will work. Please, make yourselves at home," he said with a bow. Georges let the luggage gracefully hover to the floor and bowed as well. The two workers disappeared down the hallway a moment later.

Hermione was still flabbergasted. "How did your mother afford this?"

"I do believe that I mentioned that we are billionaires," Draco said plopping himself down onto the bed.

She sat down beside him, unsure of what else to do in the large bedroom. "I don't think the penthouse was really necessary. What do we need a kitchen and dining room for if we're only staying one night? Not to mention the exercise room, the spare bedroom, the lounge, the foyer…"

Draco smiled. "Most women that I date would be over the moon with this level of extravagance…I'll have to tell my mother that for once her attempts to impress someone went too far."

"I don't mean to be ungrateful—" she rushed to say.

"Don't worry, Granger, I look forward to telling her that for once she was wrong about something. Let's just hope the dress that she chose suits you better than the hotel."

"Really, everything's amazing. I shouldn't be complaining, I get to go to Paris for free and I'm not even your girlfriend—"

"How about we go sightseeing?" Draco cut her off.

Hermione's eyes brightened and she jumped onto her feet. "Can we go to the Louvre? Last time I was here we didn't get a chance to see it."

_Of course she wants to go to a museum…_ "Would you like to go to the wizarding part of it, or just the Muggle part?" he asked rising to his feet.

Hermione's eyes widened. "I didn't know that there was a wizarding part!" she was practically shaking with excitement.

"You're in luck; my mother has dragged me to the Louvre more times than I can count."

The couple made their way to the lift and rode it silence, punctured by the soft jingle of piano elevator music. At the bottom Draco held out his hand for her and she took it without question. As they walked across the lobby floor, Draco could have sworn that he saw a camera light flashing, but when he looked round for the culprit he could not pinpoint a camera anywhere. Hermione pulled him toward the courtyard apparition point impatiently.

"We only have a few hours before our dinner reservation and I want to see as much of the Louvre as possible!"

"Lower your voice, Granger. I think we're being followed," he whispered at her as they stopped in the courtyard full of witches and wizards appearing and disappearing.

She rolled her eyes. "Your paranoia is starting to get annoying. Can you bring us to the Louvre now please?" she threw a large smile at him and Draco couldn't stop the corners of his lips from turning up slightly.

"Yes, we can go." He took a step closer to her, which was entirely unnecessary seeing as they were already holding hands—all you need is contact to side-along apparate—, and turned on the spot, hurling them to the wizard entrance of the famous museum.

* * *

Hermione stood in front of the portrait of Catherine Deshayes, a plump French woman who resembled a nun. Catherine kept asking Hermione if she wanted her fortune told or needed a tincture to ward off small pox. Hermione ignored her and continued to read the plaque describing the woman's life.

Draco came up behind her and wrapped his hands around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. Hermione finished reading before she addressed him.

"Where?" she asked without moving her eyes from the portrait which was insisting that Hermione show it her palm.

"By the statue of Cassandra Vablatsky," he said into her ear, causing goose bumps to erupt down her neck. Hermione sighed. "I'm still waiting…"

"For what?" she asked turning around and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"For you to admit that I was right."

"It was a lucky guess."

"It's not that hard to say, Hermione. Just repeat after me: Draco Malfoy was and will always be correct and I should always do as he says."

That made Hermione laugh. "Yes you were right about being followed, but don't push your luck." She stood on her tip toes and kissed him lightly on the lips. A hurricane of angry butterflies invaded her stomach as she did so, so she quickly pulled away and took his hand instead.

Hermione pulled them down the hallway toward the section about famous magical inventors. They both ignored the photographer that was obviously tailing them. The same photographer who was staying at their hotel and who had followed them to the museum.

"You know," Hermione said leaning her head against Draco's shoulder as they sat down on a bench across from an impressive statue of Dumbledore, "I don't know why we didn't think that your mother would have told the press exactly where we would be going. It's obviously something that she would do."

Draco shrugged in response. Hermione turned her head to look up at him; he was staring into Dumbledore's eyes with a faraway look on his face. Hermione, suddenly realised that they had stopped to sit in an awful place, given Draco's past with Dumbledore.

She took his head into her hands and moved it away from Dumbledore to face her instead. He closed his eyes instead of looking into hers. "He doesn't blame you, not for anything. He understood what you were going through and he tried to help. He saw the good in you, Draco," she said earnestly. "And I bet that he would have gotten a kick out of seeing the two of us together," she said with a chuckle.

Draco opened his eyes then to look into hers. They stayed like that for a long moment of silence until Draco pressed his lips against hers. Hermione's hands slid into his hair and one of his hands came to rest at the back of her neck. Draco pulled back after a few seconds, but Hermione kissed him again, wanting more of these soft kisses that they weren't supposed to be sharing in the first place. Neither of them noticed the portrait of Fawkes, that hung beside Dumbledore's statue, crying silently. She pulled away shortly after, remembering—with difficulty—that they were in a public place, and a photographer was probably taking several pictures of them kissing.

Hermione stared into Draco's grey eyes, feeling very flushed and shaky. "We should probably—it's getting late…our reservation…"

Draco nodded mutely and stood, clasping her hand and bringing her toward the exit of the museum. They appeared in the hotel courtyard a moment later, the silence between them remained unbroken until Hermione came out of the bathroom in the dress that Narcissa had bought for her.

Hermione had applied a small amount of makeup and re-relaxed her hair so that the curls were defined. She styled her hair so that there was a small hair-bow at the back of her head. She then took out the dress and shimmied into it slowly, afraid to rip the fragile fabric.

The dress was long, a deep blue that almost looked purple in parts and not overly revealing. It had thin shoulder straps covered in fake leaves and flowers with an entirely lace back. It did not plunge too much in the front, but it wasn't too modest either. There was a small lace triangle cut out centred just below her breasts and a belt cinching her waist in. The dress clung to her like a second skin until her hips where it fells straight down and even had a small train. When she moved slightly in the bathroom light hints of emerald green reflected from the sheer fabric. Hermione was actually quite taken to it. She slipped on her black pumps, grabbed her beaded bag, and nervously opened the door to the bedroom.

Draco sat on the bed in a black suit jacket, black dress pants, a silvery dress shirt, and black bow tie fiddling with the buttons on his jacket. He looked up when Hermione opened the door.

"Blimey Granger…"

"Oh. Do you think it's not…" she said, acutely aware that he was looking her up and down intensely.

"My mother is terrible with hotels, but a goddess when it comes to fashion," he said while standing and walking over to her. His eyes were riveted to her body.

Hermione blushed happily. "I like it too. I was a little worried that it would either be entirely see-through or extremely poufy."

Draco reached her and placed his hands on her defined hips. He pulled her close to him and grinned. "You look gorgeous."

Hermione's pulse quickened. She was somewhat confused by his compliment and actions, seeing as no one was around to see them, but she accepted them with a radiant smile. Draco leaned down to kiss her, his hand moving to grasp the back of her head, but before he could do so she stepped away from him. He frowned at her reaction.

"I just did my hair," she clarified. "It would be a shame if the cameras didn't get to see it before you mess it up."

Draco sighed, but offered his arm. Hermione looped her bare one through his and they both walked out for their dinner.

* * *

Draco watched Hermione as she sipped her glass of champagne and examined the restaurant's decadent décor. The tinkling of a piano could be heard floating through the restaurant floor over the hubbub of French restaurant-goers. Draco studied her while she studied a large painting hanging by the wall to the loos. He had been on many first dates before, and he usually always knew what to say to have the woman across from him smiling and hungry to warm his bed. For some reason he couldn't think of a single thing to talk to Hermione about aside from work or their tumultuous time together at school. Both were topics that he would rather not address at the given moment, so Draco continued to stare at her and memorise the different parts of her face. He started with her left eyebrow.

"Can you stop staring?" she asked without looking away from the painting.

"How would you know that I'm staring?"

Hermione turned to face him. "I can feel your eyes on my face."

"You know that's a little disturbing, Granger, because as you can see my eyes are in fact in my face. So if you're feeling them on yours…do we need to go to the hospital?"

"You know what I mean," she said with an eye roll.

Draco smiled and finally found a topic that he thought would not end up stressing them out or end in a duel: "When did you visit France the first time?"

Her eyes lit up and she launched into a story about the summer before third year. Draco almost sighed in relief, the silence was beginning to feel awkward. Which was odd, since they spent most of their time together in silence.

"…and of course when I saw this plaque I immediately thought of you."

"You thought of me?"

"Weren't you listening? It said Malfoy on this plaque in the middle of Muggle Paris. And my first thought was, 'Malfoy is even ruining my holiday', because you were a right prat to me during second year," she reminded him helpfully.

"I really was," he concurred. He took a gulp of champagne and began looking for another topic that they could discuss, but Hermione continued on.

"You were. But I understand why. I don't know that I'll ever forgive you for hurting my feelings during those early years, but I did get justice when I punched you in third year."

"That hurt!"

"You deserved it!"

"That I did," Draco conceded with a smile. "I was such a little shit, wasn't I?"

"You were. But I got the feeling that your heart was no longer in it around the end of fourth year."

"It wasn't," he said darkly. "Let's not talk about school. Why did you choose to study at St. Mungo's? You could have gone abroad, especially after you and Weasley split."

"England is my home. Besides, St. Mungo's has one of the best HT programs. I figured that I could go abroad afterward if I wanted, but if I received my Doctorate abroad not everyone will accept it. And I get to see my parents and friends more this way. Why did you stay?"

Draco really needed to start picking his conversations better. He decided to be honest. "I wanted to leave England, maybe move to France or Italy because I own property here and there, but when it came down to it I couldn't pack my bags."

"Too much stuff?" Hermione asked with a laugh.

Draco smiled faintly. "You could say that. I had real anxiety trying to figure out how to put the grand piano into my suitcase," he joked, successfully making Hermione laugh again.

"Do you play?"

"Please, Granger," he reproached her, "I'm a Malfoy and Malfoys are taught things such as the art of rhetoric, musical theory, and how to properly court a woman."

"Is that so?" she asked, smiling. "You'll have to play for me some time."

"If that's what you want."

She nodded. "So, why did you end up staying then?"

Draco had thought that he had dodged this bullet, but apparently not. "I felt like I was leaving behind too many loose ends. I needed to help repair after the war, leaving felt like running away from my past and if I had gone...then I would never be able to prove to you lot that I am a much better Healer than you."

Hermione's melodic laugh filled the air. "You wish."

"Well you have already admitted that I am a better potions master than you. It's only a matter of time until you admit it."

Hermione titled her head with a smile on her face. Her brown eyes bore into his grey ones as she said, "I'm glad I gave you a second chance."

Draco felt himself flush lightly and his body come alive with magic. _What is wrong with me?_ He managed to say, "Me too."

"I mean, look at all the free trips that I would be missing out on if I had not given you another chance."

"Don't forget clothes. My mother will literally shower you in clothes." _Until Saturday_.

"And honestly, being able to watch television on your huge screen is nice. And you are a surprisingly good cook; I hate cooking, myself."

Their food arrived at that moment. The conversation flowed at lot more easily after that.

By the time dessert rolled around Draco found himself feeding Hermione spoonful's of ice cream. After Hermione wrapping her lips around the spoon and closing her eyes and groaning in delight, Draco realised what a terrible idea this was. As he fed her another spoonful images of her giving him head invaded his mind. He coughed loudly and tried to think of Voldemort naked. It mostly worked.

"I'm not done my ice cream yet, Malfoy. And seeing as you stole the spoon…" Hermione interrupted his efforts to clear his mind.

Draco cleared his throat. "Right, sorry…"

"Nothing the matter, is it?" she asked. "You seem distracted."

"No, nothing," he said quickly.

"I know you're lying, but I care more about eating ice cream at the moment, so you're off the hook," she smiled and stole the spoon back from him. "Did you want any?" She ate another spoonful and licked the spoon clean suggestively.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her innocent expression. She knew exactly what she was doing. "You little tart."

"How dare you—"

"You know exactly what you're doing."

"I really have no clue what you're going on about, Draco," she said shoving another spoonful of her vanilla ice cream into her mouth slowly.

"You've become awfully bold."

Hermione flushed ever so slightly. "What can I say? I like eating ice cream." She licked her lips.

Draco wanted to take her then, in the middle of the crowded restaurant. Instead he looked her in the eyes and slowly licked his upper lip. Her entire face turned crimson and she was leaning toward him despite herself. "You and I both know that I'll win this game, Grangie. So just eat your ice cream normally please and thank you. Or I might just leap across this table and have my way with you," he added in a low voice.

"Is that a promise?"

Draco stared at her, stunned. _Who is this woman and what has she done with Hermione Granger_. He looked at her champagne glass; it was only half empty and was still her first glass. Draco tried to think of a witty comment but his mind was not functioning at full capacity considering images of him and Granger tangled together naked and sweaty in their hotel room were occupying most of his brain cells. Luckily for him their waiter Manon walked up at that moment.

"Comment ça va?" she asked.

Hermione looked up at her and smiled as if she and Draco had not just been discussing sex. "Très bien, merci. Je pense que nous sommes prêts pour l'addition."

"Parfait. Je reviendrai dans un moment avec ça."

"Merci." (1) Hermione looked back at Draco. "You were saying?" she asked with her head quirked to the side a large smile on her face.

"I don't make empty threats," he threatened.

"I certainly hope not. Let's go for a stroll after dinner, I hear that Paris is particularly beautiful at night time."

_How does she switch topics so quickly?_

"Voilà l'addition, si vous avez besoin de payer par carte crédit il faut aller là-bas," she indicated a friendly staff member who was standing in front of a cashier. "Passez une bonne soirée." (2)The waitress then proceeded to walk away.

"It pains me to admit that you're more fluent at French than I am," Draco said, reaching for the bill.

Hermione held it away from him. "Do you have Muggle money?" He hesitated and her eyes lit up. "My turn to pay!"

"Granger, that's hardly necessary, this restaurant is very expensive."

"Good thing I'm a war hero that makes a lot of money then," she rose to her feet and sauntered over to the woman the waitress had indicated earlier. Hermione pulled a wallet out of her purse with difficulty (it was her beaded bag that probably had a small child hiding in it somewhere) and pulled out a small plastic card that Malfoy had seen Muggles using whenever he went out in Muggle London.

Draco met her at the cash and linked arms with her as she thanked the cashier for the evening. He led them down an old cobblestone street that had lights twinkling above them. They walked in silence observing the liveliness of the city at night. Draco kept glancing down at Hermione's face, which always held a large smile. Draco led them down several streets until they finally rounded a corner and were right outside the Eiffel Tower. They were standing in a dark alleyway a couple hundred feet away from it. She looked up at him and was about to say something when he apparated them to the wizarding tourist level of the Tower.

Hermione caught her breath when she realised how high up they were. She was clinging to him forcefully. "I don't like heights," she said tightly.

"Don't worry, I've got you." She didn't loosen her death grip, but her shoulders did relax imperceptibly. "So what do you think of our first date so far?" he asked casually, trying to hide how affected he was by her answer.

"Well it is bloody freezing up here."

Draco removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders, she clung to him again aggressively, but seemed more at ease. "Why didn't you pack a coat, it is October, Granger."

"I packed a cloak, but those are a little conspicuous among Muggles."

"Aren't you supposed to be the clever one?" he teased.

"You told me that I'm the nice one, remember?"

"And you told me that you can have more than one defining characteristic," he countered.

"Shush, I'm enjoying the view, your nattering is ruining the image," she complained, although the corners of her mouth were turned up.

So Draco shut up and looked out at the busy city going about its business with Hermione's head resting on his shoulder and her arm linked with his.

* * *

Hermione washed her face off in the sink and brushed her teeth. Her hair was now piled on top of her head in a high pony tail. She tried to reach around the back of her dress for the button at the top so that she could change into her pyjamas as Draco walked in through the ajar door. She froze with her hands awkwardly reaching behind her.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Need a hand?" he asked smoothly.

Without waiting for a response Draco walked up to her. Hermione lowered her hands and let them dangle by her sides as Draco's slid up her back slowly. Goose bumps covered her skin where his hands touched it through the lace back of her dress and her heart accelerated. He reached the button at the top of the dress and undid it. He proceeded to slowly unzip the dress down her back, revealing her pale skin. Hermione watched his face in the bathroom mirror as he unzipped her. He was staring at her naked back intently, a fire in his eyes.

"You're not wearing a bra, Granger," he stated.

"Good observation."

His hands dropped from her back and wrapped themselves around her lower torso, bringing her flush against him and making her blush. "When did you become so bold?" he asked for the second time that evening. Hermione shrugged in response, unable to form a coherent sentence.

He held eye contact with her through the mirror and attached his lips to her neck greedily. Hermione titled her neck to give him better access as her breath sped up and her whole body started to thrum with magic. While he kissed her neck Draco reached up and pushed her dress off of her shoulders. He peeled it down her stomach to reveal her pert breasts and she watched him look at them hungrily before raising a hand up to fondle her left one gently. _He always starts with the left one_, she thought randomly. Draco continued to suck on her neck heavily, right on her pulse, making it speed up even more. It was only by examining her reflection that Hermione was aware that one of her hands was shoved into his hair and the other was resting on his hand on her hip as she breathed raggedly. _When did that happen?_

Draco pulled his hand from her breast and hip in order to push her dress the rest of the way off of her body. Hermione helped him by shimmying out of it quickly. It fell in a pool around her feet. Despite the fact that she was now naked, save her lacy underwear, Hermione was extremely hot, hotter than when she was fully dressed. Draco's hand descended to her lacy undergarments and stroked her slowly over them. She tried to hold his eye with the help of the mirror while he did so, but she kept glancing down at his fingers working their magic. She already felt her orgasm building. She stopped breathing for a full second when one of his fingers ghosted across her clitoris.

Hermione's hands fell forward so that she was leaning on the counter top. This angle allowed her to grind against Draco's growing arousal which elicited a groan from the tall blonde. Draco's hand moved into her underwear making Hermione sigh in contentment at the skin to skin contact. She was panting unattractively by this point and failing miserably at holding back her quiet moans of pleasure. Draco continued to fondle her breasts and kiss her neck sensuously. Watching him do it in the mirror had pressure building in Hermione's lower torso in a very short amount of time.

"Yes…" she panted as Draco's finger played with her clit quickly. Draco pinched it softly and Hermione shouted out in pleasure, her panties wet from her orgasm. She stared into Draco's eyes as she came undone. He kissed her neck languorously until her breathing became steadier.

Draco slid his hand out of her pants, turned her around and lifted her onto the marble countertop. He roughly attached his lips to hers, pushing his tongue into her hot mouth. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist and moved her hips against his insistently. She pressed their faces closer together with her hand wrapped in his bleach blonde hair. Draco slid his arms underneath her bum and lifted her up. He walked to the bed while Hermione licked the side of his neck. He laid her on the bed and peeled off his shirt slowly. He unbuckled his belt and, while maintaining eye contact with her, he pulled his pants and boxers off in one fell swoop.

Hermione eyed his member and licked her lips. It was odd, but she did get off on getting other people off, and she wanted to get Draco off. However, he pushed her onto her back, dragged her underwear off quickly and spread her legs for him. His head was nestled between her legs before she could express her desire to please him and she was whimpering in pleasure within seconds of his tongue touching her.

For once, Draco wasted no time with teasing her, he slid a finger into her very wet core and moved them at a quick steady pace. His tongue licked her clit up and down then from side to side over and over. And over. He slid in another finger and curled them sharply causing Hermione's hips to jerk upward. He held her in place and quickened the pace of his fingers and continued to flick his tongue back and forth quickly. Her hand was clenched in his hair, her eyes squeezed shut, and her head thrown back against the luscious pillows. She swore loudly as he curled his fingers again. Her whole body was pulsing with desire, all rational thought pushed to the back of her mind. She was clenched tight around his fingers as she felt heat pooling in her lower stomach for the second time that evening. Draco started sucking on her clit forcefully while humming to himself. The vibration from his humming brought on her orgasm hard and fast. She shouted out his name roughly. Her hips jerked against his face erratically.

Draco kissed his way up her body as she slowly became aware of the world around her again. He lightly sucked on her breast before moving up to her mouth. Hermione forgot to be grossed out that she was kissing him after what he had just done, and kissed him back harshly. She rolled them over so that she was on top. Hermione looked down at his naked form: swollen lips, sweaty, mussed hair. Then she looked into his eyes. All she wanted was to feel him inside of her, but she was worried about how it would complicate things between them. His grey had become so clear they almost looked blue. She held his gaze as she decided something; _to hell with the rules_.

She gripped his length and slid onto it. This surprised Draco who let out a string of curses. "Granger," he said croakily, "what're you doing?"

Hermione for her part groaned in contentment at the feeling of him stretching her. Her body was immediately abuzz with desire again. She didn't move for a solid thirty seconds sighing in delight at the feeling of their joined bodies. Hermione grabbed both of his hands and used them to help push herself up on him. She slid back down, very slowly. "What does it look like?" she finally replied huskily. Hermione continued to ride him slowly.

"I…th—thought that. WE. Said…" Draco tried to say between groans.

She stopped moving suddenly. "You don't want to have sex with me?"

"Merlin, yes!"

"Then what is the issue?" she asked, fighting the urge to rock her hips against his.

"I thought that you didn't want to."

"Well, clearly I do," she with a flex of her hips. "I'll do all the work," she said starting her thrusts again, "you just lay there and enjoy the view."

Draco didn't seem to need more convincing than that. Hermione moved on him, staring into his eyes with each escalating thrust. Draco's hands held onto her hips and tilted them ever so slightly so that he pressed against her g-spot with each of her thrusts. Hermione broke eye contact as she moaned and began to speed up her pace.

"Fuck, Granger," Draco groaned as the sound of their pounding flesh got louder and louder.

Hermione leaned back and placed her hands on his upper thighs as support. Her head was thrown back in delight. Draco's left hand left her hip and travelled to her exposed clit and began rubbing it in circles while Hermione ground her hips against his with her eyes screwed shut. Draco removed his finger temporarily, but it returned a few seconds later cold and wet. _He must have put it in his mouth_. The sensation made her cry out incoherently and her eyes snapped open. It was then that she noticed a faint blue light shimmering in a cocoon around their joined bodies. The light made her feel incredibly at ease.

"Draco, look…" she said softly without slowly her pace.

He looked up at the light with a puzzled expression. Hermione reached up to touch it, but it stayed a foot away from her hand no matter where she moved it. The light didn't distract them for long however; Hermione was still bouncing on top of Draco. Hermione lowered her head to his and pressed their lips together. Her hips slowed to match the rhythm of their kiss: deep and deliberate. For some reason this had Hermione's blood pulsing even more erratically than their faster pace. Her breasts brushed lightly against his chest with each of her small thrusts. One of Draco's arms leisurely travelled up her back and tangled itself into her hair. Hermione felt the hairs on the back of her neck and her arms raise, not in an unpleasant way, but as if there were a large amount of magic floating through the room. She felt Draco tensing up below her as she herself began to feel overwhelmingly hot for the third time that evening. The sound of their loud breathing and the occasional moan punctuated the silence of the room. Hermione sped up her pace.

Hermione pulled back from their kiss and stared into Draco's eyes. Her heart stuttered and her breath hitched at the look of ecstasy on his face. "Draco, I—" she started to say, but at that moment she came undone. It was as if she had an out of body experience; she could see the blue cocoon surrounding her and Draco and she saw her and Draco orgasming at the same time. But she also felt as if she were still in her body, experiencing a toe-curling orgasm. She also felt as if she were the one inside of her, holding her hips in place. She felt a wave of emotion wash over her, but she was unsure how to label it.

Hermione snapped back into her body an instant later and rested her chest against Draco's, her face snuggled into his neck, as her breathing began to slow. He wrapped an arm around her body.

"Wow," Draco croaked.

Hermione chuckled. "You can say that again."

"I'm glad you changed your mind about the whole 'no sex' thing," Draco commented. "The light's still here," he said after a moment.

Hermione couldn't be bothered to open her eyes, so she decided to take his word for it. "When I orgasmed I had an out of body experience."

"You felt like you were watching it happen, but you were also still feeling like you were in your body?" Draco questioned.

"Yeah, and I…well I think I felt what you felt."

"I thought I imagined that."

"You felt it too?"

"Let's just say that I now know how it feels to have a dick inside me. Never thought that would happen."

Hermione laughed. "I wonder what it means. The blue light, is it still there?"

"Yes."

Hermione's eyes snapped open suddenly and she sat up abruptly. The blue light disappeared and the room was much darker and colder without it. "We didn't do a contraception charm!" she said in a panicked voice.

"You're not taking a potion?" Draco asked, his voice rising higher than usual.

"No, why would I be taking a potion?" she asked shrilly. "I haven't had sex in ages! It's more likely that Voldemort will rise from the grave than me getting pregnant." Hermione scrambled off the bed searching for her wand and finding it on the bathroom counter. "Will it still work if I use the charm now?" she asked Draco in a panicked voice.

He shrugged unhelpfully looking equally worried.

"I thought you were the one that had one night stands all the time, how did you deal with this?" Hermione asked, the alarm evident in her voice.

Draco got out of bed and walked over to her. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Take a few deep breaths, Hermione. The odds of you being pregnant are slim to none, not to mention that I can whip you up a potion tomorrow morning when we're back at my flat. Now let's give the contraception charm a try, it could still work."

Hermione nodded and waved her wand in front of her lower stomach in a spiral. Draco took her hand and dragged her back into bed. He pulled the covers over them and spooned her.

"Don't worry, no babies for us," he said into her ear.

"Sorry for getting so freaked out…it's just. I'm not ready for kids. At all."

"You think I am?" Draco laughed.

"Right, no babies for us." _Not yet, at least_. Hermione banished that thought and instead allowed her mind to wander to the fabulous shag she just had. She felt her face flushing as she added, "You're really good in bed."

"As are you Miss Granger," Draco said while pulling her body closer to his. He kissed her neck lightly.

"What do you suppose the blue light means? Or the out of body experience? And it is odd that we came at the same time. That is very rare… And why can I use your wand?" Hermione questioned.

"Shh, Granger," Draco planted a kiss on the back of her neck. "Sleep time now, questions later…"

Despite Draco's reproach she continued to question what the blue light meant and why it kept reappearing whenever they were physically intimate. _It is obviously magic, and it only appears when we're touching each other…maybe it has to do with—_

"I can hear you thinking," Draco complained sleepily. "Go to sleep and then we can wake up nice and early tomorrow morning and have a shag in the shower. I've wanted to shag you in the shower for eons."

Hermione flushed at his confession, but found herself looking forward to it as she had spent many a bubble bath or steamy shower thinking of him.

"Good night Draco."

"'Night, love," he mumbled before slipping into a deep sleep.

Hermione's eyes opened wide in shock from his choice of words. Her whole body flushed happily and her heart clenched. It was then that she realised that they did not just have sex, they had made love, especially just before they climaxed. All the slow thrusts, the soft kisses, the eye contact. Instead of feeling uncomfortable by this realisation she felt oddly whole.

It had taken her almost six months into her relationship with Ron before they slept together. And what a disappointment it had been how incompatible they were sexually. He really wasn't terrible in bed, she just couldn't stand it when he was inside of her, or touching her at all outside of a hug. On the other hand, she and Draco start fake dating, and less than a week later she was having a pregnancy scare. Hermione felt as if she should feel more like a slag, but instead she just felt like she knew what she wanted, and that included a certain blond who was snoring softly into the back of her once again tangled hair. She blamed the blue light. She also thanked the blue light for the best sex she had ever had. Ever.

Hermione found herself relaxing into Draco's arms and drifting off to sleep.

* * *

**Translations of French**

(1) "How are you doing?" she [waitress] asked.

"Very well, thanks. I think that we're ready for the bill."

"Perfect. I will be back in a moment with that.

(2) "Here's the bill, if you need to pay by credit card you have to go over there."

"Have a lovely evening."

**A/N:** I may get a lot of flack for having them sleep together so quickly in their relationship, but in this story they have a very strong sexual compatibility and attraction, and also, c'mon, Paris. But seriously, Hermione is in her early twenties and wants to have sex, Draco is a willing partner; I don't think that it's rushing it. And with their 'relationship' having an expiry date, I don't think it's far-fetched. But please don't hesitate to argue with me in the form of reviews ;) (just please don't tear my soul apart).

I am also officially done writing the story, just editing the last few chapters (there are 19 in total) so it all should be up fairly soon, probably by early next week.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen: Propositions

Draco made good on his promise and dragged Hermione into the shower at the crack of dawn. He then proceeded to wash her body and have his way with her against the expensive tile walls. He towelled her off and watched her pull on her Muggle jeans and jumper that she had packed. He only pulled on some boxers and pants, hoping to distract her with his naked chest, which seemed to be successful as he caught her staring at him several times throughout the morning. They ordered room service and had crêpes out on their lavish balcony as they discussed their next patient for their potion trials. They did not discuss how intimate the sex had been last night, nor the calming shimmering blue light that kept cropping up whenever they were touching one another. They packed their bags and took the portkey back to Draco's flat. All in all it was a good morning.

Draco gave Hermione a contraception potion that he had in his potions stores when they arrived in his flat. They walked to St. Mungo's for Miracle Squad Thursday shortly afterward.

* * *

Hannah sat on the counter in Pansy's shop _Good Vibrations_ talking to the brunette while she organised the display shelf behind her; she wanted to change the theme to Halloween.

"I'm not sure, but I'm thinking about apprenticing with Ollivander," Hannah was saying.

Pansy added a large pumpkin to the shelf. Hannah was unsure if it transformed into some sort of dildo or if it was just decoration, but she didn't ask. "You want to be a wand maker?"

"I'm not sure, but Tom's hired on two new people and I'm not interested in working at the Leaky forever. I was happy to help out when he needed it, but I think I'm ready to move on."

"You could always work for me," Pansy suggested as she added a rather large dildo that was shaped like a troll to the display.

Hannah blushed. "Thanks for the offer Pansy, but—"

"You're too much of a prude, I get it. So Ollivander's then?"

"Well I have always been fascinated by wands, I just find it so interesting that they are the most effective way for witches and wizards to focus their energy. And the man is getting on in age…"

"I think that's a great idea, Hannah," Pansy said while hanging a bat from the top of the display. It started to flap its wings when she waved her wand.

"Thanks, Pansy," Hannah said glowing happily. "How'd you get into this business anyhow?" she asked indicating the display shelf.

"At first I just wanted to piss my parents off," she admitted with a chuckle, adding candles and cobwebs to the mix, "But I've always been passionate about sex."

Hannah laughed. "Seriously?"

"Well it's not just sex toys and contraception potions that I sell, I also do monthly courses about healthy relationships, sexual education, body image, sexual assault, you know that kind of thing. Well, I host them anyway, someone from the Health bureau at the Ministry comes and runs them."

"I didn't know that!" Hannah was impressed. "When do those happen?"

"The first Monday of every month. You should come in November, we're talking about how to introduce toys into the bedroom."

Hannah blushed, but said, "I think I will."

"Like I said, I'm passionate about sex. I also found out that Muggles have these shops everywhere. They're way ahead of us in the sex game. So I've been trying to help us magical folk catch up."

"How noble," Hannah joked.

Pansy turned around to face Hannah. "Speaking of sex. Are you and Theo shagging yet? Because let me share some gossip: he is phenomenal in bed."

"We're not. But we are going out on a date this Friday night..."

Pansy gave her a knowing smile. "Time to dust out the downstairs cupboard?"

Hannah laughed. "Maybe…"

"Make sure you cast a contraception charm," Pansy reminded her.

"Always. Although, little baby Theo's would be adorable…Are you going to the Halloween Ball at the Ministry?" Hannah asked changing the topic.

"I do love a good ball. Say what you will about purebloods, but they knew how to throw balls. I haven't been to one in ages."

"I think I'll ask Theo to go with me on Friday. Do you think he'll say yes?" Hannah asked nervously.

"That man worships the ground that you walk on, of course he'll say yes," Pansy said with a roll of her eyes.

"He does not worship the ground that I walk on."

"He'll say yes. Even though he hates dancing."

"We should get our whole group to go," Hannah suggested, thinking that Ernie could finally reveal his secret paramour and that Theo couldn't back out if all of his friends made him.

"That sounds great," Pansy said absentmindedly while hanging up a banner that said 'Clean the cobwebs out of your love life this Halloween!'

"I'm going to pop off to Ollivander's and ask him if he's looking for an apprentice or any London wand makers who are. Make sure to mention the ball this Friday at the _Leaky_, Theo and I will be on our date."

"Got it. Thanks for stopping by, Hannah." Pansy gave her a quick hug. "You're not all that bad for a Hufflepuff," she joked.

Hannah stuck her tongue out at Pansy before stepping into Diagon Alley and beginning the trek to Ollivander's. Pansy was thinking about what dress she wanted to wear to the ball—something long was traditional, but something short was more her style—when she received an unexpected customer.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley," she greeted.

"Hi Pansy," George said with an easy smile.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I have a business proposition."

"I'm listening."

* * *

"I've almost finished the final report for Bonham and Gordon, can you believe that we go back to work on Monday?" Hermione said from one of Draco's desk chairs.

Draco was bent over his silver cauldron making another batch of restorative potion. They had visited Azkaban Thursday evening in order to acquire wand shards from torturers who still had living victims. Draco had found a cloning potion that would allow them to reproduce each restorative potion as many times as needed without diminishing the power of the potion. They had so far made several hundred vials for victims of Travers, the Carrows, Dolohov, and they were even able to make one for Rodolphus Lestrange. However there were no traces of Bellatrix's wand shards or anything of her at all, so they could not make a potion for her victims.

"It doesn't seem like three weeks," he said without raising his head from his cauldron.

"No it seems like a year," Hermione laughed and continued scratching away with her quill.

It did seem like they had spent a lot more time together than only three weeks. Perhaps because when they had first started this project they were hardly on speaking terms and now they were sleeping together. Well they had slept together once. Unfortunately there had been no repeats because Hermione, thank Merlin for no babies, had gotten her period. They had slept in separate beds the night before and Draco had to pile several layers of covers on top of himself in order to get warm without her.

"Can you proof read this before I owl it?" Hermione interrupted his thoughts.

Draco waved his wand over the cauldron and a thick fog sat on top of the bubbling potion. He leaned back in his chair and accepted the parchment that she held out to him. As he read he felt her staring at him.

"Stop staring at me."

"I'm not," she said, but she hesitated.

_She's probably blushing_. Draco looked at her. She was. "You might want to change into something a little more formal, my mother will be here shortly," he reminded her. He went back to reading her flawless report and Hermione scurried off to change into a dress or something.

Draco was actually quite proud of what they had accomplished. They had visited Lucy the day before and found that she was already doing better; her headaches had gone away, she had not had a seizure since taking the potion, and she was no longer having flashbacks. She did, however still have a slight tremor in her hands, but it was a vast improvement. Draco and Hermione projected that over time her dosage could be lowered, but she would probably have to take the potion for the rest of her life, hence Draco ingeniously coming up with a way to clone it with no adverse effects on the potion. Hermione painted Draco as the hero of their project in her report and he casually altered some of her sentences so that her part in their work was more accurately represented. He owled it before she could change it back to her original version. _She's too nice_.

Hermione walked back into his office then with Crookshanks in her arms.

"No, you have to bring the cats to your flat. My mother will go bonkers if she knows that I own a cat, let alone that _you_ own a cat."

"We're breaking up, remember? This will just be the cherry on top of the cake."

Draco didn't need reminding that tonight was the end of their relationship. "Granger your desire to bother my mother is only paralleled by my own," he grinned.

She dropped Crookshanks and he wandered off to find Nymph. "Besides when she sees Nymph you can say that I bought her for you."

A loud cracking noise announced the sudden arrival of Winky. "Master told Winky to tell Master when Mistress Narcissa was coming to visit. Winky is good, sir, she tells Master," the house elf said in her laundered pillow case.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Draco.

"Winky, please don't call me Master. Just call me Draco."

"Yes Master Draco, sir." She nodded her head before disappearing with another loud crack.

"You closed the balcony doors, right?" Hermione shook her head no with wide eyes and Draco swore. Narcissa's heels could be heard coming down his hardwood floor a second later. "I told you you're the one that leaves the balcony doors open!" he whispered harshly.

"Are we supposed to be fighting now?" Hermione whispered quickly.

"Yes," he whispered back.

Narcissa's steps were only a few seconds away, and Draco didn't want her to see him working on another potion, so he walked briskly out of his office to intercept her.

"Mother," he greeted tightly.

"Draco, darling," she smiled warmly and hugged him tightly. "Hermione," she greeted as she emerged from the office, "always a pleasure to see you." To everyone's surprise Narcissa pulled Hermione into a tight hug. "Shall we go to the dining room for dinner? Winky's just bringing it over." Narcissa turned on her heel without waiting for a response.

Draco and Hermione walked into the dining room, carefully keeping their distance from one another. Hermione sat beside Narcissa instead of beside him. Although Draco knew that this was coming, he was distinctly not enjoying their distance from one another. He also wasn't looking forward to their planned fight at the Leaky for that night.

"So tell me all about Paris!" Narcissa insisted with a large smile plastered on her face. "I read the article in _the Daily Prophet_, but it was all so superficial. You went to the Louvre? I just love the photo of the two of you in front of Dumbledore. It caused quite the stir back here in London. Some people thought it was indecent. I say it's a symbol of a united future." Draco looked at his mother's passionate face and couldn't tell if she was being sincere or if she really just wanted Draco to get married to Hermione and redeem the Malfoy name.

"It was a lovely trip Narcissa, thank you so much for everything," Hermione said kindly.

Winky came out and began serving them shepherd's pie. Hermione and Draco thanked her warmly. Draco noted that his mother said nothing to the small house elf.

"It was really no problem, my dear. And the hotel?" Narcissa's eyes were alight.

Draco was more than happy to spoil her good mood. "Hermione disliked it."

"Well not—" Hermione started to say, but Draco cut her off.

"Hermione is more used to a…common life style and she found the hotel to be a gross extravagance."

Hermione glared at him and he was fairly positive that she was actually angry at him. Narcissa's smile froze on her face.

"Is that so?" There was a pregnant pause in the dining room. "Well to each their own, as the Muggles say!" Narcissa said smiling again. Draco stared at her cheerfulness with a look of confusion on his face. "Do tell me, how was Gaston's? The food is just exquisite isn't it?"

Hermione and Draco shared a dark look.

"Oh dear, don't tell me that the two of you are fighting?"

_Perfect_. "Why would we be doing anything of the such?" Draco asked tightly. _Now all Hermione has to do is act passive-aggressive, which should be easy enough for her_.

"I wonder why she thinks that, don't you, Draco?" Hermione snapped.

_I could kiss her_. "I—"

"It's completely natural for you two to be fighting at this stage in your relationship. I wouldn't be surprised if you broke up temporarily. You're at a very fragile point right now," Narcissa said while smiling annoyingly brightly. "I know that you two will work it out."

"Break up?" Hermione said sharply. "I'm glad you suggested it, Narcissa. I'm sick and tired of your son's selfishness and his over inflated ego!" she rose to her feet. "Good bye, Draco!" and she stormed out of the room. His balcony door slamming shut could be heard a moment later.

A long silence filled Draco's dining room. He cleared his throat and stood up abruptly. "I think it best if you leave," he said stonily.

Narcissa remained seated. "Draco, darling. I know that you and Hermione are not actually together."

Draco's mask of indifference dropped and her stared at her incredulously. He sank back into his chair slowly. "Since when?"

"Since the beginning, sorry love." She ate a forkful of food and sipped on her glass of red wine.

"Why?"

"Because I worry about you, Draco. You spend almost all of your time alone, save Friday nights with myself and your small group of friends. Oh, and of course that pet cat that you seem oddly fond of. I don't want you to be alone forever. I know what that's like," there was a slight tremor in her voice, "and you don't want that. Additionally, Hermione is an intelligent young woman who cares about you."

"Yeah, right."

"She does Draco. Why do you think that I've been pushing you two together? You're perfect for one another." Draco found himself agreeing in his mind, but said nothing. "And yes, I do want grandchildren and Hermione can redeem our family name. But know that those are not the reasons that you two should be together," she said earnestly. Narcissa rose slowly and placed her cloak around her shoulders. "You can go ahead and fake break up with her or you can stay together and be happy. The choice is yours, I'll stop having you followed and I won't push you two together anymore. If you decide to break up with her, I'll pretend that I knew nothing all along." Narcissa moved around the table and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I just want you to be happy," she squeezed his shoulder and clacked her way out of his flat.

Draco let out a long breath. _Well that didn't go as expected_. Draco sat at the empty table for nearly thirty minutes contemplating whether or not he should tell Hermione that they were off the hook. On one hand he wanted to keep spending time with her, intimately and otherwise. On the other, she might not feel the same way. And their whole relationship was based on lies and a strong sexual attraction, not exactly the best base to jump off of. Crookshanks wandered into the dining room and hopped onto Draco's lap. He stood, knocking the cat off of his lap, and marched to his balcony. He apparated to Hermione's and unwarded it quickly.

She was sitting on her sofa reading a book. _Typical._ She glanced around at him as he walked determinedly toward her. Draco wasted no time in attaching his lips to hers. She dropped her book with a quiet 'oh' and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him onto the sofa. Within moments Hermione was straddling Draco. Draco felt at home in her arms. Her lips descended to his neck and began sucking on it. Draco's pulse sped and he realised that he should probably stop this before it escalated too quickly, which seemed to happen with them far too often. He just wanted to have one good last snog in case she wanted to end things.

"Hermione," he said roughly.

"Mmm?" she continued to plant kisses on his neck.

His stomach began to rage a war as nerves took over, but he summoned his courage and said, "My mother knows."

Hermione froze. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. "She knows that we're not actually together?" she asked as her breathing slowed down again.

Draco didn't understand why he didn't just lie to her so that they could spend one last night together, but for some idiotic reason he found himself nodding at her.

"So this whole time…?"

Draco looked past her shoulder and explained, "She knew, but she wanted us to be together, so she pretended not to know. And that's why she insisted on Paris and kept shoving happy pictures of us under our noses…"

"But now everyone else thinks that we're…"

"We can break up tonight at the Leaky as planned," Draco said, masking his face. And ignoring the pain in his chest.

Hermione frowned but nodded slowly. "Yeah we could…"

Draco, sensing her hesitation, and feeling reckless at the thought of losing her, rashly said, "Or we could…not."

Hermione nodded again, faster his time. "Yeah?" she asked quickly.

"And we could…maybe keep being together, but for real." Draco's heart was pounding as he said this and his palms were sweating.

Hermione broke out into a huge smile. "I'd like that," she admitted, causing Draco to smile right back at her. She brought her lips back to his and kissed him slowly. She pulled back and grinned down at him, the shimmering blue light was back. "So does that mean that you're my real boyfriend now?"

"You tell me, Granger."

"I hope you're not one of those clingy boyfriends. Because I'm going to need my personal space," she said seriously.

"You're the one that invades my flat on a daily basis and brings your cat with you," he countered.

She smiled. "Did mother dearest notice the cats?"

"She already knew about Nymph."

"Figures. What exactly did she say about us?"

Draco hesitated. "She said that she wants me to be happy."

Hermione flushed slightly. "And are you? Happy?" she asked uncertainly.

"Well I am disappointed that our little group of friends won't get to see our big fake fight tonight. I was looking forward to yelling at you."

"That wasn't an answer."

"Speaking of our friends, we should probably head over to the _Leaky Cauldron_ or we'll never hear the end of the sex jokes," he said still not answering her question.

Hermione flushed, but allowed Draco to push her to her feet and apparate them to the bar in question. It was busier than usual and the couple had to snake their way through the crowded tables to find their friends at an equally brimming table. Draco led the way with Hermione's hand in his. Pansy raised an eyebrow at their joined hands, but said nothing. Draco sat between George and Blaise, the former moved over so that Hermione could squeeze in. Draco found it odd that no one commented on the very recent, and very public, revelation that they were dating, but one look at Pansy showed that she had probably threatened them all into silence.

Draco pulled Blaise to the side later on in the night to explain to him in hushed tones that he and Granger were in fact now actually dating. Blaise merely high fived him before returning to Ginny's side and slinging an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a kiss. Draco, never being one for public displays of affection, sat beside Hermione comfortably, with his hand on her thigh. No one would likely notice this small contact, but Draco felt more at ease physically touching her.

"Where's Hannah and Theo?" Hermione asked the table over the roar of the pub.

"On a date," Pansy responded. "Oh, speaking of;" Pansy raised her voice to get everyone's attention, "Hannah wanted me to tell you all that we're going to the Halloween Ball next week as a group whether you like it or not. No excuses."

"I doubt Hannah said it like that," Draco mumbled to Hermione who laughed quietly.

Everyone else at the table returned to their individual conversations. Hermione looked up at Draco and asked, "What do you say, Malfoy?"

"About what?"

"The Ball, you and me?" Hermione asked with an eyebrow raised.

"I assumed so, seeing as our presence is required and you are my girlfriend."

Hermione flushed happily.

"You two are official then?" George asked.

Draco looked over at the redhead. "What of it?" he asked defiantly.

"We are," Hermione said much more warmly. She shot Draco a quick glare before smiling at George.

"I mean I'm all for your right to see whoever you want, Hermione, but," Draco's fists clenched, "please try and not have pictures of the two of you snogging on the front page of the _Prophet_, I could go without seeing that on a Thursday morning."

Draco relaxed. The article in question included many photos from their outing to Paris, including the kiss that they shared in front of Dumbledore's statue which looked all kinds of passionate. Hermione was blushing, Draco just smirked.

"Trust me, George, I do not want another photo like that in the papers. We're being followed by photographers left right and centre. They all want a photo of the war hero and the ex-Death Eater," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes.

"Although, you have to admit, it's a cute picture," Pansy chimed in from across the table.

Draco agreed silently.

"Pansy are you going to go to the Ball with anyone?" Hermione asked, changing the subject.

Draco saw Pansy's eyes flick briefly to Ron who sat across the table, but she said, "I think I'll go alone. You never know who you might meet at a Ball."

Draco looked at Ron who was poorly trying to hide the fact that he was not listening in on Pansy's response. _Interesting_.

"Hermione, I'd love for you to come by the shop sometime next week. I'm releasing a new line of healing products that I'd love some feedback on," George said.

Hermione responded happily. Draco sat in silence, content to listen to Hermione chat with her friends, as long as he was by her side.

Later on that night Draco lay curled around Hermione in her bed with the cats purring loudly at the far end of it. They had only exchanged a few soft kisses before going to sleep. Draco was just content to have his arms wrapped around her. She fell asleep faster than he did, which seemed to be a trend for her, and Draco watched in wonder as the blue light slowly appeared again. It shimmered above them and physically made him feel warmer. Draco nestled his head into her bushy hair.

"I am happy," he whispered into the tangled mess.

Little did he know that Hermione was not asleep and heard him. The blue light grew stronger and lulled them both to sleep.

* * *

Pansy accompanied Ron Weasley down Diagon Alley toward George's joke shop. The older Weasley and Potter had left the bar nearly an hour before them. Pansy wasn't sure why she decided to walk with Ron instead of apparating; they were both more than sober enough to apparate to their respective homes alone. She tightened her long cloak around her shoulders and watched her breath form in the cold night air. The Alley was surprisingly empty for a Friday night.

"Thank you for not making a big deal out of Hermione and Draco or Ginny and Blaise," Pansy said finally.

Ron shrugged. "It's what Hermione and Ginny want for some insane reason…plus you can be very intimidating when you put your mind to it."

Pansy glanced up at the gangly redhead with a smile at the corners of her lips. "Most men have trouble admitting that a 5'3" brunette intimidates them."

"Most blokes are lying to themselves then," Ron laughed.

Pansy smiled bigger. "I underestimated your intelligence, Weasley."

"Most people do," he shrugged again.

They arrived at the Joke Shop a few minutes later. Pansy stopped walking as Ron stood looking down at her awkwardly. He cleared his throat. "Well…"

Pansy advanced toward him and she saw him visibly gulp. "I've been thinking of how to reward you for your kindness last week, but I decided that you can name your reward. So what do you want, Weasley?" she asked with an eyebrow raised and a hand on her hip.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting him to say, let alone what she wanted him to say, but he surprised her by saying weakly, "Can you please stop threatening me?"

"You take all the fun out of everything," she pouted. She stepped toward him again with a dark look on her face and Ron backed up against the joke shop door.

"You're still doing it."

Pansy placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned into him. "I'm not threatening you," she said slowly then she bit her lip. Ron's eyes flickered down to her lips and back to her eyes quickly. He was breathing heavily. Pansy wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his face down to her level. Instead of kissing him at the last second she turned his head and whispered into his ear, "I'm flirting with you." She licked his earlobe then bit it lightly and stepped away from him quickly as if nothing had just happened. Ron stared at her, wide-eyed. He seemed more afraid that she was flirting with him than threatening him.

"No deal. You'll have to think of something else that I can give you," she said snapping him out of his lust-induced silence.

Ron cleared his throat loudly. "You don't owe me anything."

Pansy frowned at him. "But…"

"Seriously Pansy, we're fine. If anything I owe you something. I feel terrible for making you cry."

Pansy stared into his sparkling blue eyes. She was impressed. Despite this, she said, "Gryffindors" with a roll of her eyes. "In that case, have a lovely night Mr. Weasley." She began walking toward her home.

"Do you want me to walk you the rest of the way?" Ron asked suddenly.

Pansy turned around and stared at him. _Why did Granger dump this man?_ "I'm perfectly capable of walking myself. I do recall you saying on several occasions that I am scary."

"That's not what I meant," Ron said quickly trying to do damage control.

"I'm not offended, Weasley. Trust me, you'd know if I was. Goodnight," she turned to leave again and added over her shoulder, "try not to stare at my fabulous derrière as I walk away."

He was blushing so hard Pansy could almost feel the heat radiating from his face. Pansy heard a door close a moment later and she assumed that Ron had entered the joke shop. Pansy walked the rest of the way to her large empty house, thoughts of the freckled redhead's kindness invading her mind. _I'm going to thank him somehow_…She thought of the new potion that her store was selling and she knew exactly what to give him.

* * *

In an old creaking house that looked abandoned to passersby a small group of cloaked people were gathered in a circle in the cold cement basement. An eerie white/blue ball of light hung over the group, casting deep shadows.

"It's gone too far," a hooded woman said.

"The nerve of them," another added in harshly.

"We are strong now, we should act," a third hooded figure added, unsheathing their wand.

"No," said a firm voice, "we must first come up with a plan. We are too few, we must recruit more. I'm not going on a suicide mission. We need a plan of attack so that we all make it out alive and we take out those blood traitors."

"Can we at least go and attack some Muggles?" whined the second person.

"Patience. All in good time," said the commanding voice.

"Can't we just—"

"Do you want to end up like Travers?" he asked harshly.

"No," she said meekly.

"So we wait. I will think on this, we'll reconvene next week, same time, same place. Remember, no magical transportation to this location, ever. We cannot be traceable to those idiot Aurors."

"Muggle transport is so filthy," complained a nasally voice.

"They'll get what they deserve, don't you worry…I'll see you all next Friday."

The group separated and slowly made their way through the silent house and onto the foggy London streets. One person stayed behind and stared at a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that had been left behind on the ground. It was open to pages ten and eleven. The title on page ten read, "Hermione Granger to open Muggle clinic at St. Mungo's Hospital - Funded by Draco Malfoy". Page eleven featured a photo of several witches and wizards at a pub. They were all smiling and laughing. The title read, "The start of a new era?"

The witch waved her wand brusquely and the newspaper caught on fire. She watched as the photo of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger locked at the lips curled up in smoke. She left the house with a smile on her face.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen: Routine

"Welcome back Healer Granger. Healer Gordon and myself were very impressed with your work with Healer Malfoy these past three weeks. I am happy to let you know that your probation has not been extended three weeks to make up for the time that you weren't in the hospital. Healers Boyd and Adams assured me that it was entirely their fault that you were not being mentored."

"Thank you so much Healer Bonham," Hermione gushed, thankful that she only had another six weeks of this bogus probation. "What of Healer Malfoy?"

"Upon inspection it became clear that his mentor Connolly was the one refusing to work with him and not vice versa. His probation, like yours will only last another six weeks."

Hermione smiled victoriously. She wanted to go find Healer Gordon and rub it in her face that Draco had bested her, but she remained seated. "I am very thankful for your investigation into Healer Connolly."

"Indeed. I am appalled to think that we have people who openly support blood prejudice as part of our staff. Healer Connolly has taken a Ministry-run course about blood relations."

Hermione smiled broadly. "How fitting," she said victoriously. "May we speak about the new clinic?"

"But of course, my dear," Bonham said kindly. He smoothed down the few hairs left on his balding head while Hermione spoke.

"It is going to be located on the fifth floor, correct?" Bonham nodded. "Once I am done my probation I would like to be transferred to the clinic full time. I would of course still work in the memory and spell wards, but I would prefer to operate out of the clinic and help with its operation. I also suggest that we hire on at least two new employees to help run it full time. Having Healers take a half day once a month plus the three of us should allow the clinic to be fully operational."

Bonham was shaking his head slowly. "Two more Healers?"

"Yes, I know that it is a lot of money, but the clinic hours are much shorter than the hospital's, so it wouldn't be entirely full time…"

"Miss Granger, you are lucky that I have a soft spot for Muggles," Bonham said resignedly. "And that I already budgeted for two extra healers when you proposed the Muggle Clinic to me."

Hermione smiled broadly. "You are an amazing boss, sir," she would never again question what Bonham did in his spare time, even if it included reliving the days of his youth as a dancer—_I bet he was nimble in his day—_, "I'll send out a hiring notice in our monthly newsletter. And we will of course be running the Miracle Squad as usual every Thursday on a volunteer basis."

"Indeed," Bonham agreed smiling so broadly that Hermione saw most of his yellowing teeth. At that moment she thought that he reminded her of an old turtle; round, shiny, somewhat yellow…

She stood up. "Thank you so much, Healer Bonham," she turned to go.

"You should also include your success with the _Cruciatus_ in our newspaper, talk to the first floor about how much space you'll have."

"What a lovely idea." Hermione was having a great day so far.

"And Miss Granger, is it true that yourself and Mr. Malfoy are currently involved in a relationship?"

Hermione smiled tightly, "What of it?"

"That really is marvelous news! Marvelous, indeed. It makes me believe that maybe history won't repeat itself, that we will learn from our mistakes…" Bonham said dreamily.

Hermione got the uncomfortable feeling she usually got whenever Luna started talking, so she edged her way out of his office thanking him again for his generosity.

She had noticed that several people did stare at her oddly, which hadn't happened since she and Ron split, whenever she walked the halls of the hospital. Most people didn't seem as thrilled about the new couple as Bonham was. Hermione was unfazed by this behaviour and continued on her merry way. She was halfway through that week's column about Spattergroit when there was a knock at her office door.

Hermione waved it open to see Jenn and Amy standing in the door frame looking sheepish. "Please, come in," she said pleasantly.

"Hermione, we're so so sorry!" Amy started.

"I know that you told Bonham the truth, and judging by your linked hands you're finally out in the open about your relationship. It's fine."

"But we—" Amy tried again.

"It's fine. Seriously. Just don't abandon me again, because I'd like to finish this probation eventually."

"We'll never leave your side," Amy vowed.

Hermione smiled. She did miss the two women in front of her, even though Amy spoke far too much for her own good.

"We're thrilled about the clinic," Jenn said.

"Aren't we just? I can't believe that they approved it. Well I can believe it, because it's you and you're amazing and smart and no one can say no to Hermione Granger. But also, think about all the people that we can help now, and we're not the ones playing God because they're coming to us, because last week let me tell you when I didn't heal a baby boy's harelip I cried later. And I'm so happy that you're talking to us again Hermione. It was just hell doing the Miracle Squad with you ignoring us. Wasn't it, Jenn?" She didn't wait for a response, "And the clinic is just going to be amazing. I have some ideas for the colour scheme—"

"We're very proud of you," Jenn summed up for Amy. "Tell us all about your research project, Bonham told us that you and Malfoy were researching different ways to combat the _Cruciatus_."

"It went amazingly," Hermione said with a sparkle in her eye, "We've treated two patients so far with amazing success. In two weeks we are going to expand our scope further. Unfortunately, using the method that we are right now, we cannot treat victims whose torturer's wand is missing."

"I can't believe you came up with any way to treat _Cruciatus_ victims," Amy said in awe.

"We're in as much disbelief as you are. When we started our project three weeks ago it really seemed impossible," Hermione thought back to their first week of unsuccessful research with a smile.

"We were just about to head to the Staff Room for lunch if you want to join," Jenn offered.

"We can catch you up with all of the gossip, and you can catch us up with all of your gossip," Amy said giving Hermione a significant look.

"If you're talking about Malfoy and I…"

"Since you brought it up; since when? How did it start? Who started it? How serious are you? Is he really financing the Muggle clinic? I've heard a lot of stories about his sexual prowess and I was wondering—"

"Why not ask me yourself?" Draco suggested from the still open door.

Hermione blushed at being caught gossiping about him, although in her defense she wasn't really the one gossiping so much as the one being gossiped to. Draco casually sauntered into the office.

"Draco!" Hermione squeaked. "Why are you—"

"A man can't each lunch with his girlfriend?" he asked rounding her desk and slinging an arm around her shoulders casually, causing Hermione's stomach to flutter and her heart to thump unnaturally powerfully. He pressed a kiss to Hermione's flushed cheek, making her blush more while a smile took over Amy's face. "Now, do tell me, what questions do you have about my, how did you put it, 'sexual prowess'?" he asked with a smirk.

Amy smiled and began to open her mouth, clearly having every intention of interrogating Draco. Luckily, Jenn cut her off. "Why don't we all head to the Staff Room for lunch?" she suggested and tugged Amy out of Hermione's lime green office.

"I wasn't gossiping about our sex life," Hermione said quickly.

"Of course you weren't, Granger," Draco said, clearly not believing her. "Either way, I've nothing to hide." His voice lowered seductively and he pulled her flush against his body. Hermione's breathing sped up. "I know that you enjoy our time together in bed; that a simple kiss has your blood boiling, that you love it when my fingers curl inside you, that you enjoy most of all watching me cum, or even that I love the way you taste," he brought his tongue down to her ear and licked it slowly. "And especially the little silent moans that you make when I'm knuckle deep in you and sucking your clit," he breathed into her ear. Hermione felt heat pooling in her lower stomach from his words alone being huskily whispered into her ear. "You can tell as many people that as you wish," he planted a kiss on her neck. She very nearly groaned. Actually she might have. Hermione noticed over his shoulder that her walls were now a shimmering blue.

"Get a room," Ernie said from the door way, metaphorically throwing a cold bucket of water at Hermione's over heated body.

She stepped away from Draco slightly, but he kept his arms around her waist.

"We are in a room," Draco commented with an eye roll. "You are really terrible for closing doors, Hermione," he added.

"That wasn't my fault!" she argued, "Amy was the last one in here."

"Whatever you say, Granger," he said with a smile. Draco cut off her response by kissing her firmly.

"I'll just meet you in the Staff Room for lunch then?" Ernie said loudly from the door.

Hermione pulled back from Draco's heated kiss blushing. She turned to face Ernie and said, "Sorry, Ernie! Yeah, we'll be by—"

Draco cut her off rudely, saying, "Bye, Mack!" and slamming her office door shut with a flick of his wand. He then continued to kiss Hermione thoroughly. The blue shimmering light enveloped them as he lifted her onto her desk, knocking off a large stack of papers in the process.

As Draco's hand crawled underneath her shirt and began groping her breast, eliciting a breathy moan from Hermione, Hermione realised that they should probably stop before they got too far invested in this snog session. She pushed him away bodily.

"What's wrong?" he asked breathily, genuinely concerned.

Hermione watched his chest heaving from their brief contact and wanted nothing more than to pull him back against her body. Instead she said, "We have a lunch date with our friends."

He groaned in frustration. "You're no fun."

"Says the man who's won the award for the most broody person in the world for the past five years." This caused Draco's lips to quirk slightly. "Now, let's have lunch. There's plenty of time for fun later." Draco's eyes seemed to sparkle in anticipation.

Hermione linked her hand with his. Her heart was still beating erratically as she led them to the Staff Room. They joined Amy and Jenn around the fireplace, as it was a particularly chilly October day. Hermione poured herself some hot chocolate and settled into her stolen from Hogwarts armchair (probably during the reign of Albus Dumbledore, because let's be real here, which other Headmaster would let anyone get away with robbery?) with a smile on her face.

* * *

Ron walked into his office after lunch to yet again find Pansy Parkinson sitting on his desk, waiting for him. For some reason Ron closed the door behind him before addressing her. And for some reason he was happy to see her again so soon. As usual she was dressed to the nines.

"How do you keep getting in here? It's warded," he asked while trying harder than he did on his O.W.L.s not to stare at her tight red dress (and we all know how Ron did on those).

"You really should get Hermione over here to give you a quick lesson on simple warding techniques…how you avoided capture for as long as you did during the war is a miracle."

Ron felt his ears heating up. "Why are you here, Pansy?"

"Because I have a gift for you," she said smiling.

Ron then noticed the small vial with a large pink bow attached to it that was in her left hand. "I told you that I didn't need anything."

"I didn't listen," she said happily. "Trust me, you'll really enjoy this." Pansy hopped off of his messy desk and sat in one of the chairs opposite it. "Have a seat, I'll tell you all about it," she said.

Ron cautiously sat down at his desk, in no way trusting Pansy being so close to him.

"Technically it's not entirely from me. But let's just say that the co-inventor wishes to remain secret. It's from a new line that we're trying out at the store." She offered him the vial and Ron took it after a slight pause. "It's like a daydream potion…"

"But I'm assuming it's slightly altered."

Pansy nodded. "Ever so slightly," she said in a way that implied that it was vastly altered. "I suggest that you take it when you're home. Alone. Make sure that no one's coming to visit. It lasts about an hour, and once taken cannot be stopped. So I suggest you learn how to ward your bedroom better than your office." Pansy stood and stared down at his confused face.

"What exactly is this?" Ron asked.

"I told you, it's like a daydream potion. Only better. Much better. I've tried it myself, it's very…" she thought of the word for a moment before deciding on: "satisfying."

"Pansy I'm not drinking an unknown potion."

"Whatever you say," she said doubtfully. "Just know that we're even now." She walked to the door and turned around to say, "I heard that you said no to Lavender about the Ball this Friday."

Ron shifted uncomfortably. "What's your point?"

"None at all. I'm just sharing gossip, isn't that what friends do?" she asked innocently.

Ron didn't trust her. "Friends?" he asked suspiciously.

"Unless you want to be something else…" she bit her lip drawing Ron's attention to her mouth. She then licked her lips slowly. The she smiled, clearing her throat loudly making him realise that he had been staring. "For instance, I am also going to the Ball alone, and Hannah and Theo have totally fucked. Oh and let's see…George is dating that Angelina woman, or I guess they've only been on a few dates, Luna Lovegood is repainting the first floor of her home, and I bought a new dress today," she gestured to the offending article that Ron was still desperately trying to ignore. "See, just sharing gossip. I'll be seeing you, Weasley." Pansy sauntered out of Ron's office.

_Bloody hell, that woman is far too attractive for her own good_. Ron was surprised that she brought up Lavender, who he had been adamantly avoiding for the past two weeks. Ginny was right, he never should have hooked up with her again. Ron picked up the vial and examined it. He took off the bow and looked for a label, but the vial was completely clear. He pushed it to the side of his desk and picked up his quill. When he had signed up to be an Auror he had not been expecting as much paperwork as the job required. He sighed and began scratching away at the standard burglary form. His mind wandered back to the vial from Pansy. _Why do I need to take it alone? She does know that I share a flat with Harry; how on earth am I going to get time alone? Not that I'm going to take the potion, because that would be absurd and reckless…_

* * *

Hermione sat in the potions lab on the third floor of St. Mungo's. Draco was across from her grinding lace wings for a potion. She had a pile of mostly unopened mail in front of her, as a front in case he complained that she was staring at him. Despite being officially allowed to stare at him all that she wanted, Hermione still got embarrassed whenever he caught her in the act. This mostly happened when he was working on a potion or writing a report. There was something so fascinating about watching him work: he became very concentrated and very graceful as he added ingredients to the bubbling cauldron, his face became softer, and he was just downright attractive, so that made staring rather fun.

"You're staring again Granger," Draco said without looking up from his work.

Hermione tore her eyes from his face and lowered them to her invite to a Mediwitch conference in Switzerland in mid-November. "I'm reading my mail, Malfoy, don't flatter yourself."

"Although I appreciate the fact that you enjoy my body, it is rather distracting when you stare."

"How would you even know, you're not looking at me."

"I feel you staring at me. And not like when you can normally feel someone staring at you. I know that it's _you_ staring at me." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Seriously, the weird magic thing that we have, I can feel when you stare at me," he clarified, still adding ingredients into his cauldron without looking up. "For instance, you're staring right now," he said lifting his eyes to hers.

Hermione blushed lightly. "Am I not allowed to stare?"

"Not while I work," he said waving his wand in front of his cauldron and walking around the work table to her. "You're far too distracting."

"It never bothered you before," Hermione countered.

Draco smiled lopsidedly and took her hand. "It's escalated since—"

"Hermione! There you are!" Amy shouted in relief. "I need you upstairs now, we had an attack." The usually peppy woman looked very stressed.

Hermione sprung to her feet while drawing her wand. She pushed Draco out of her way and jogged with Amy to the lift. "Why didn't you send me a memo?" Hermione questioned once they were in the lift.

"I did, memos don't get sent to the potions lab because they can fly into the potions or into the people brewing very delicate potions. There was a terrible explosion five years back."

"Good to know. What's happened?" Hermione questioned as Amy led her to the Emergency room on the fifth floor.

"We're not sure yet, seems to have been a messy duel, definitely not an accident," Amy said while tying her hair up into a tight bun.

They jogged through the emergency doors a minute later and Hermione saw four people with varying injuries lying on different cots. Three Healers from Amy's ward were already working on stabilising the patients. Two of them were working on one while the other one was working on another. This left two patients unattended, but judging by the lack of blood on them, Hermione assumed that they had already been assessed. Hermione walked up to the one closest to her. A woman, about 25 years old, Indian, tall. She had a large gash on her arm above what appeared to be a broken forearm. Hermione cast a cleaning spell to get rid of the dirt that covered the woman's body to reveal several bruises on the woman's arm and left side of her face. Hermione cut away the woman's red dress with magic to reveal more intense bruising on her stomach. The woman was unconscious.

"Have you given her a potion or is she naturally unconscious?" Hermione asked loudly over the groans of pain from the other male patient with two Healers around him.

"Potion," one of them shouted back after a moment.

Hermione got to work healing the woman's broken arm and sealing the gash. She then ran her wand over her body slowly doing an internal bleeding test. She had to wave her wand several times to patch up internal wounds. She then performed a spell to remove the excess blood and transported it into the biohazard box beside the woman's cot. Hermione cast several basic healing spells to speed her recovery process before applying a paste to help heal the bruising. She used her wand to scan the woman's body and quickly healed a few scrapes that she had missed.

Hermione turned around to see that the one patient was still posing a problem to the healers trying to help him. Hermione joined their side and saw that his face was severely bloodied due to several deep cuts, his arm appeared to be dislocated, part of his shin bone was sticking out of his leg, but worst of all the healers were trying to seal his torso and prevent his organs from spilling out.

Hermione took a steeling breath and _stupefied_ the man. His eyes slid shut and his groans stopped. The Healers were still trying to seal the large wound on his torso. She cast a cleaning spell so that she could better see his face and began to wave her wand quickly over it, sealing as many of the wounds as she could. At that moment the man opened his eyes and shouted out in pain. Hermione _stupefied_ him again even though she knew that he was likely to wake again from the pain. She summoned an anesthesia potion from the side table, uncorked it, and poured a small amount down his open mouth. She went back to sealing the wounds on his face and nodded her head in satisfaction when there were no more holes, just deep red lines. Hermione hurried around to his leg and healed it with a flick of her wand. She sealed that wound as well and found herself becoming drained; she hadn't had to perform this much magic in a long time.

Hermione's eyes snapped up to the door to see Draco standing there, looking at her. It was like he had just described; she felt someone staring at her, but she knew that that someone was Draco and she knew exactly where he was. She sighed in relief and rushed over to him.

"We need pain, blood-replenishing, and restorative potions, maybe some more anesthesia, and scar-removal paste."

Draco nodded and summoned three large green glass jars and a smaller blue one. Hermione returned to the man who was coming to again. Hermione quickly shoved the rest of the potion down his throat. He passed out a few seconds later. She waved her wand over his face again making sure that all the wounds were entirely closed. The scarring on his face reminded her of something, but she couldn't think of what at the moment. The other two healers had finally succeeded in closing the man's torso. Healer Underhill waved her wand slowly back and forth over his stomach, presumably checking for internal bleeding. She stopped several times to heal small wounds that she found.

Hermione wiped the sweat off of her brow as Draco reappeared by her side floating three large glass jugs in front of him and several more vials. He handed her scar-removal paste silently and began siphoning off the blood replenishing potion. The other healers thanked Draco and helped themselves to different potions as needed. Hermione began gently applying the scar paste to the man's face. She was unsure if it was going to work, because it was not entirely clear if a spell had caused the injury or if he had received the injury from something non-magical hitting his face.

"That looks like _sectumsepmra_," Draco said darkly. "You'll need essence of dittany."

Hermione nodded and located it on the shelf of emergency potions. She brought it back to the man and dropped it slowly on his face. This was a very long process considering he had six large intersecting wounds across his face. Hermione felt her hand starting to tremble around wound number three. Draco, whose presence she had forgotten about, placed his hand in her free one. Hermione looked up at him and smiled weakly. She returned to the painstaking task of dropping the dittany over the man's scars with a renewed vigour. In fact, by the end she didn't feel as tired as she had before and her hand was no longer trembling. _I am really out of practice_, she thought while remembering when she could have healed several wounds like this and still fought a duel afterward.

Hermione let out a long breath once she finished. She stepped away from the man, slightly shaky from the entire ordeal. Hermione looked around to make sure that all the other patients were fine and sure enough only herself, Amy, and Draco were left in the ER.

"Did we find out what happened?" Hermione asked Amy who was running her wand slowly over each patient to scan them for any missed injuries.

"The person who reported it says that they think it was an attack. The man who you were working on is a Muggleborn. His wife," she indicated the Indian woman who Hermione had healed first, "is a pureblood. And their friends are both Muggleborn."

Hermione's breathing sped up. She wasn't sure if she wanted to be angry or scared about the attack. She settled on squeezing Draco's hand tightly. Hermione's head started to throb. She absentmindedly pulled her glasses out of her inner pocket and perched them on her nose.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Draco asked after looking at her pale face.

"Do they know who did it?" she said finally.

Amy was just finishing with the last patient. "Not yet. Although it was in Diagon Alley, outside of the ice cream place actually. Who would want ice cream this time of year…" Amy trailed off shaking her head. She walked over to Hermione and hugged her awkwardly, due to the fact that Hermione still had a death grip on Draco's hand. "You did amazing." Amy stepped away from them and left the room.

Hermione was rooted to the spot staring at the man with faint pink lines on his swollen face. Draco stepped in front of her, blocking her view. "Granger, are you alright?" he asked again, sounding very concerned.

Hermione nodded mutely. "Is it the end of the day yet?"

Draco smiled softly. "Let's get you home."

Hermione nodded again and allowed herself to be pulled from the room. Draco brought her down to his office and sat her in his comfortable chair. "Wait here," he said before disappearing. Hermione wasn't sure how long he was gone. She just kept thinking: _that could have been me and Draco_, over and over again. Draco reappeared and tugged her to her feet. Hermione followed him willingly into the lift.

"I asked if we could leave early," Draco said quietly. Hermione just nodded.

Once in the lobby Draco apparated them to Hermione's balcony, forgoing the walk. He disabled her wards and pulled Hermione into her living room. He pushed her lightly onto the sofa. Draco went into her bedroom looking for a throw blanket and found his own grey one—_the little thief_—and wrapped it around her shoulders.

He sat down beside her and pulled her against him. "Talk to me, Hermione," he said looking down at her blank face and feeling distinctly unnerved.

"That could have been us," she said quietly.

"But it wasn't."

"But it could have been."

"Hermione…"

"No, Draco. It could have been us. We're basically the spokespeople for blood unity," Hermione stood and began pacing in front of him. "If people are getting attacked now…maybe it was a warning to us. Everyone knows that we work at the hospital, what if they knew that we'd be the ones to deal with this?"

"Hermione you're being irrational, how could they have planned—"

"I am not being irrational, Draco. You know that I'm right. The _Prophet_ has been writing about us for a solid week now, and _Witch Weekly _had that special yesterday. It said where we work, what we do. And that we're dating one another. Then the next day there's suddenly an attack on a Muggleborn and Pureblood. That is way too much of a coincidence."

"That doesn't mean that it was a message for us," Draco said coaxingly, even though he agreed with her wholeheartedly.

"How do you know that!" she shouted.

"Granger," Draco said softly. He stood in front of her to stop her pacing. Hermione looked up at him impatiently. "If that's true then this is what they want you to be doing: worrying. Don't let them get to you. I won't let anyone hurt you."

"What if they attack you?" she asked with a trembling voice.

Draco's lips quirked upwards. "You won't let anyone hurt me. I know how it feels to be looking down the wrong end of your wand. Trust me when I say that you wielding your wand is very fearsome." Draco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a tight hug. Hermione hugged him back firmly. He didn't like when she was upset.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled into his Healer robes.

Draco kissed her forehead. "You should be, you're supposed to be the level-headed one in this relationship," he teased. "Want to go to my flat and watch some of those cartoons that you enjoy so much? We can cuddle up with the cats," he suggested.

"And you have to make me dinner," Hermione added in.

"How come I'm always the one making dinner?"

"Because I'm the level-headed, smart, creative, and nice one, and you're the cook."

Draco smiled down at her and kissed her quickly. He liked being able to kiss her softly whenever he felt like it. Hermione smiled bigger and _apparated_ them to his flat. Several hours later she was still glued to his couch, her head in his lap, Nymph on her hair and Crookshanks on her stomach, watching Spongebob Squarepants. Hermione turned her head away from the television screen to look up at the ceiling. She noticed a faint shimmering hovering a few feet above her head. As she thought about how at ease she was in Draco's presence the shimmering turned to its familiar light blue.

"Why blue?" she asked.

Draco jumped minimally when she spoke. "What?" he asked groggily.

"Were you asleep?" she asked tilting her head slightly to look at his tired eyes.

"No, I love this show. Why would I sleep through it?" he lied.

Hermione laughed. "I asked why you think the light is blue."

"I have no clue, Granger. Why do you think that it's blue?" he let out a yawn.

"I think it has to do with our magical signatures…but those are usually invisible, so I'm not sure why ours are manifesting themselves. I read somewhere that very few people's magic is ever visible to the eye. My next question is why it appears when we're touching. Because it doesn't appear all the time. Just now I only saw a faint shimmering, but then I thought about you and it grew stronger…"

"So it has something to do with what we're thinking?"

As Hermione watched the blue became more vibrant. "What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked, looking into Draco's eyes again.

He leaned down and kissed her deeply. It was an awkward angle, and Draco pulled back fairly quickly. But nevertheless, it had her heart pumping a flamenco. Draco glanced up at the light which was pulsing slowly. "Hmm…"

"I'm guessing that you were thinking about kissing me, then," Hermione said breathlessly. As she watched the light became more intense and it began to pulse faster; it was matching her heart beat. The light became a darker blue suddenly. "What are you thinking about now?"

Draco smirked down at her. "How about we go to the bedroom and I can show you," he suggested.

Hermione shivered in excitement. She sat up quickly and dumped the cats onto the floor. Crookshanks meowed shrilly and strutted away (Nymph followed him, but with less dramatic flair). Hermione ignored their offense and pulled Draco to his feet. She brought his head down to hers so that they could kiss properly. Draco wrapped his arms underneath her butt and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist willingly as he slowly carried them into his bedroom, their connected lips making the trip take much longer than usual.

Draco deposited Hermione onto the bed easily. He flicked the door shut with his wand so that the cats wouldn't wander in and began shucking his clothes quickly (including his wans which fell carelessly to the floor). Hermione felt her skin heating up as she watched him undress himself. She got on her knees and slid her jumper and t-shirt off. She unbuttoned her jeans and laid back to take them off. Draco helped her pull them slowly down her overheated body. He took her underwear with them. Draco spread her legs and nestled his head between them happily.

Hermione forgot all about the attack, her worries for herself and Draco, she forgot to watch the blue light to see how it changed while he was intimately touching her, hell she even forgot her own name at one point as Draco showed her exactly what he had been thinking about doing to her on the couch.

* * *

"It was confirmed by an eyewitness, the attackers shouted 'Blood traitors' and 'Mudblood scum' before they hexed them senseless. They didn't use any unforgiveables, probably because they know that they are now traceable," Harry was saying to Ron.

"And Hermione was probably the one that had to deal with those poor people at the hospital… You don't think…"

"That's exactly what I think, Ron. This is a message, a warning maybe to Hermione and Malfoy."

"Blimey…I thought we had rounded up the last of the Death Eaters last year."

"Me too mate, me too," Harry said with a tired sigh. "They want to post Aurors to follow Hermione and Draco around, but I don't think that Hermione would want that. For right now they decided against it, but if there's another attack then Hermione will just have to deal with being followed by a group of Aurors at all times. Anyway, we can't be part of the investigation because we're too close with Hermione."

"They can't stop us from—"

"They can, Ron, and they did."

Ron shook his head. "Bloody bureaucracy."

"We can still help Hermione outside of work though."

"Yeah…" Ron sighed and sat back down in his desk chair.

"I've sent Hermione an owl, but I think I'll go visit her tomorrow at lunch, do you want to come with?"

"Yeah that sounds good. I'll see you at home in a bit, I just want to finish this report about this series of break-ins."

"Alright, see you later," Harry said, not suspecting a thing.

Little did he know Ron had finished that report at 10 am that morning. He just wanted an excuse to stay locked in his office for an hour. Ron opened his desk drawer and stared at the vial in it. He removed it cautiously from the drawer and set it on the table. He stared at it for several long seconds. He was going to drink it, but then Hermione's nagging voice drifted through his mind, telling him that he was being reckless. Ron sighed. He put the vial in his robe pocket and walked out of his office, locking it with a wave of his wand.

He _apparated_ to Diagon Alley outside of Figglebee's café. He opened the door causing a little bell to ring above his head. He didn't notice the brunette at the window who looked up at his entrance. Ron walked to the cashier who was looking bored and tired. There were only a handful of people in the café and it was near closing time. He ordered two roast beef sandwiches and paid the middle aged man, Greg. Ron waited impatiently as Greg began to prepare the sandwiches very slowly and inefficiently.

"What are the odds of seeing you here, Weasley?"

Ron turned away from Greg's pitiful attempts at creating a sandwich to see Pansy Parkinson in her usual over-the-top getup; high heels, tight dress, dark make-up, fashionable haircut, unfastened velvet green robes. _Of course she's here_.

"Pansy," he greeted stiffly, feeling as if the vial was burning a hole through his pocket.

"I heard about what happened today," she said seriously, "is Hermione okay? Draco never answers my owls. I even went over there and banged on the door for a while, but I think that he was shagging Hermione. I mean, the curtains were open and I could see Hermione's cat, but his bedroom door was closed, so odds are they're cheering each other up," she said with a wink.

Ron blushed at Pansy's straightforwardness. He didn't really want to imagine Draco shagging Hermione. "She—er—hasn't answered our owl yet either…"

"Definitely shagging," Pansy said with a nod of her head. "So are you on the case then? Potter and Weasley to hunt down the neo-Death Eaters?"

"Actually—"

"Here are your sandwiches, we're closed now," Greg said flatly handing Ron a brown paper bag.

Ron thanked him and accepted the brown bag. "I suppose we have to leave then…" he said to Pansy.

"You can walk me home now," she offered and grabbed the paper bag out of his hands.

"Sure…"

Pansy smiled brightly and linked her arm through his and tugged him out of the café. "You were saying?"

"Harry and I aren't allowed to be officially involved because of our relationship with Hermione."

"Of course. But that means that you'll be unofficially involved."

Ron remained quiet, not entirely sure that Pansy Parkinson was trustworthy. He was also confused as to why she wanted to link arms with him. Not that he disliked it.

"Speaking of your relationship with Hermione," Pansy said happily, "don't you find it awkward being her friend after the two of you have seen each other naked? Because I always find it somewhat distracting. I'll see someone I've shagged just doing something normal like drinking a coffee and next thing I know I'm imagining them naked and sweaty. Terrible distraction," she rambled.

Ron cleared his throat awkwardly and continued to blush. "Well we—er—we just wanted to be friends…"

"Not sexually compatible?" she said knowingly. "I hear that all the time at the store. Sometimes people are just better off being friends. But seriously. How do you concentrate around her? And now that she's with Draco. And you _know_ that they're shagging. Does it ever make you feel incompetent?"

Ron bristled. "Hermione and I broke up for various reasons. I assure you it was not because I'm an incompetent lover."

Pansy smiled slowly. "That's good to know." Ron had the feeling that she had been directing him to revealing this fact from the beginning of the conversation. "I just think it's great that you two are still friends," Pansy said.

"Me too."

"So you haven't taken my present yet?" she changed the topic.

"I—yeah. I did," Ron lied, acutely aware of the small vial in his robe pocket.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Tell me all about it," Pansy gushed.

A strong wind blew in their faces and Pansy pulled Ron closer to her by their linked arms.

"It was…great…"

"You're a bloody terrible liar, Weasley," Pansy laughed loudly in the silence of the abandoned alleyway. She pulled him down the road that led to her house.

"Okay, I didn't. Do you really expect me to take a potion that I don't know?" Ron almost had to shout over the wind, which had suddenly decided to take over the street.

"You should trust me!" Pansy shouted back, her words mostly whipped away by the wind.

"What?" Ron called back.

Pansy just dragged him down the road faster as the sky opened up and rain droplets the size of galleons began to pummel them. Pansy shrieked and ran up the walkway to her house with Ron in tow. Once sheltered on her porch she opened her front door easily and pulled Ron inside. Her hallway lights flickered to life with a wave of her wand.

"That's better," she muttered and dragged him into her living room. She finally let go of Ron's hand and lit her fireplace. Ron stood awkwardly in the door frame examining the room. It wasn't that large, but it was elegant and mostly dominated by her massive marble fireplace. It had a comfortable looking loveseat right in front of the fireplace and two armchairs on either side of it. Pansy peeled her soaking robes off and tossed them over the back of one of the armchairs. Ron was far too mesmerised by this action for his liking. "So you were lying about taking my potion," she reminded him and sat down on the love seat. She patted it, "Take off those wet robes and sit down," she ordered.

Ron obediently took off his robes and slung them over the back of the other armchair. He sat on the loveseat as far away from Pansy as possible. She turned in to him and waited for him to speak.

"I can't take a potion if I don't know what it is…"

"You don't trust me, Weasley?" she demanded.

"It's not you—it's—er—Hermione. She would kill me if she knew…"

"What Hermione doesn't know won't hurt her," Pansy said and she scooted closer to Ron who was awkwardly pressed against the armrest trying to avoid her touch—because let's be honest here, he was unsure what he would do if Pansy actually touched him, Merlin he wanted her to touch him. Ron's face heated up as Pansy moved closer to him. She stopped just before they were touching and looked up at him expectantly. "Just take the potion, Weasley. Trust me, you'll enjoy it."

"I can't…" he said, his voice cracking.

"Okay, I'll take a small sip of it first. How does that sound?"

"I guess that could—" Pansy stood and walked over to his cloak. She plucked the vial out of the right pocket without having to ask where he had stored it. "How did you—"

"You're a terrible liar Weasley, remember?" Pansy uncorked it and drank a small mouthful of the potion. She put the cork back in and lobbed the vial at Ron who caught it easily. She unsteadily sank down into the armchair that she was standing in front of. "I'll be unresponsive for about five minutes, maybe less," she said sleepily. "Enjoy the show." Her eyes slid shut.

Ron watched her in concern. _Maybe it was poison and she didn't know it_…

Then Pansy started to groan quietly. Her face was suddenly flushed and her head thrown back against the armchair. Her hands clenched the arms of the chair as her breath hitched audibly. Ron gulped loudly. Pansy groaned again, this time louder.

"Don't stop," she pleaded quietly.

_It's a bloody fantasy potion_. Ron finally put together her little clues about it being like a daydream potion, but more 'satisfying', and why he had to be alone when he took it. _Obviously it's a bloody fantasy potion!_

Ron shifted uncomfortably and tore his eyes away from the erotic sight in front of him. Pansy's moans became louder and Ron found himself glancing at her figure despite himself. He made himself look away again quickly and he stood. Ron was just about to leave the room when Pansy spoke. At first he thought that she was still in her fantasy. _That was not five minutes, was it? Unless I was staring for longer than I meant to…_

"Did you like that, Weasley?" she asked huskily.

Ron looked over at her and saw that her eyes were open and she was sitting normally on her armchair. She was however still breathing very heavily. Ron's face was crimson. "Why would you do that with me in the room?" he asked awkwardly.

Pansy shrugged. "_You _wanted to know what the potion was. I really wanted it to be a more than pleasant surprise for you, but Mr. I-trust-no-one wouldn't let me."

"I'm not taking some potion that makes me…"

"I bet you're wondering what my fantasy was…" Pansy said slowly. She rose and walked over to him leisurely.

Ron stood his ground for once, but still felt like fleeing from her intimidating gaze. "I wasn't," he lied quickly.

"You know you're also a bad listener."

"What?"

"I already told you that you're a bad liar. Which means that I know that the whole time you were wondering what on earth I was fantasizing about." Ron scratched behind his ear, at a loss for words. "Take the potion, Weasley."

"Not here!"

"Of course not here. Unless you want to…" She raised her eyebrow. "Go home to Potter, tell him you're not feeling well. Lock your door and drink your potion like a good little boy."

"Why do you want me to drink it so badly?" he asked.

"To make up for that night."

"Pansy, I already told you—"

"Yes. You did. And I'm thanking you for being such a gentleman. And since a reliable source has told me just how long it has been since a certain someone has gotten laid, consider this a consolation prize."

Ron's eyes went wide as he tried to figure out who she had asked about his sex life. _Harry would never…would he?_ "I—it hasn't been—that's—"

Pansy chuckled at him. "See, a terrible liar."

"Pansy this is very…considerate of you, I guess, but—"

"Unless you'd like the real deal?" she offered and ran her hands down her body slowly.

Ron's jaw dropped when he realised that she was propositioning him. He was more surprised that he wanted to take her up on the offer. "What?" he asked in a high-pitched voice.

"I don't know how many times I need to tell you this, but I wasn't lying when I said that I'd fuck you sober," she said seriously.

"I—er—you—we're…" he stuttered.

Pansy smiled broadly. "Oh calm down, you maid. I'm not going to cry when you turn me down, _again_. I don't understand you, Weasley," she said her hands on her hips, "It's just sex."

"I just like to get to know someone before I—we—er—she and I…"

"Fuck?" Pansy filled in for him.

Ron nodded.

"But you find me attractive, right?" she questioned.

"Merlin, yes," Ron said before he could consider the implications of said statement. "I mean, you are an appealing—a-attractive—beautiful? Woman, and I—most people—think…" Ron wanted to smack himself in the face.

"Hmm…" Pansy eyed him up and down. "Take your potion tonight before bed. I'll know if you haven't," she threatened. "I trust you can find your own way out." She turned on her super high heels and clacked her way down the hallway and up the stairs to her bedroom.

Ron grabbed his cloak, unsure of what just happened, which seemed to happen a lot whenever Pansy was involved and ventured out in the pouring rain. Later that night he locked himself in his room and cast every sound and locking charm that he knew on the door. Against his better judgement he uncorked the vial of his thank you gift and swallowed the contents in one go.

* * *

Hermione's hands were braced against the shower walls (made unslippery by a handy charm that Draco knew) as Draco thrust into her from behind, the spray of the shower running down her back. Her whole body was tingling pleasantly. Draco must have been close because of his left hand left her hip and began rubbing her clit insistently. Hermione groaned loudly over the roar of the shower. Draco sped up his pace and the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed in his large bathroom. Draco angled his hips slightly and hit her g-spot roughly. Hermione threw her head back and shouted incoherently. He thrust into her again and her vision blacked out for a second while she clamped down on his thick length. Draco roared in pleasure as he too came.

After a few moments of satisfied silence Draco removed himself from her and picked up a bar of soap. He turned Hermione around and trailed it over her breasts, down her stomach, onto her vagina. He turned her around and did her back and butt. Hermione turned back around and let the water stream down her body she held his gaze while she wiped the soap off of her body. Draco actually licked his lips. Hermione then took the soap from him and copied his motions. Draco switched spots with her under the shower head and rinsed himself off. He then pressed her against the back wall of the shower and kissed her deeply.

Hermione pushed him away lightly. "That was fantastic, but we're going to be late if we start round two," she said breathlessly.

Draco groaned in frustration, but stepped away from her and turned the shower off. "You're no fun."

Hermione stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her wet form. "I believe I was the one who suggested that we shower together at all."

"I was going to, you just beat me to it.

"Well it wasn't one of my brightest ideas since all of my clothes are across the alleyway. I'll meet you in a few minutes and we'll walk to _Paul's_?"

Draco walked up to her, his towel hardly covering anything, and kissed her deeply again, making Hermione not want to leave again. She pulled away adamantly when Draco reached up to untie her towel.

"I'll be back in five minutes, probably less," she said sternly to Draco's guilty face. She walked away in her little towel and onto Draco's balcony. Hermione appeared on her balcony a second later and walked inside to grab fresh undergarments. She was back at Draco's flat three minutes later and searching for her Healer robes. She found them thrown in the far corner of his bedroom. Draco walked out of his walk-in closet then in his dress shirt, dress pants outfit and sauntered over to Hermione.

"How about we just skip breakfast today?" He suggested kissing her neck softly.

"No."

Draco pouted. "You're really no fun."

"Just because of that I'm not telling you where a certain Muggle toy of mine is located. I was going to tell you, but you're being a prat."

Draco looked horrified. He fell to his knees in front of Hermione. "Please forgive me! I'll never be rude again. You're the most fun girlfriend anyone could hope to have."

Hermione smiled down at him. "Still not telling. Now let's go, we're going to be late."

Draco and Hermione held hands the whole way to the coffee shop. Once they had ordered Hermione pulled their breakfast books out of her beaded bag and handed Draco his. They sat together in happy silence, reading. If either of the couple were not so engrossed they would have noticed several Healers staring at the couple and whispering about them. They also would have noticed someone who was not a Healer, but definitely not Muggle, shooting death glares across the shop at the happy couple. As it were, they both read and ate in blissful ignorance.

At that moment Ernie MacMillan sat down at their table with a heaping plate of food. "How's the world's most famous and controversial couple doing?" he asked cheerily before shoving sausage into his mouth.

"Ernie!" Hermione said pleasantly. "I can't believe that you're awake early enough to eat breakfast."

"I have this new theory as to why you're always late to work, Mack," Draco said. "It's this person that you're shagging, they're keeping you in late aren't they?"

Hermione flushed, knowing that Draco was referring to her denial of him earlier.

Ernie also blushed deeply, but instead of responding shoved a large mouthful of pancake into his mouth.

"I know that I'm right, because Hermione—"

"Draco!" she scolded. "We're in public," she stage whispered.

"Hermione what?" Ernie asked.

"Nothing, Ernie," Hermione said quickly. "Are you bringing your partner to the ball tomorrow night?" she asked trying to shift the focus off of her sex life.

"I think so…he—I think we're ready to be public."

"He?" Draco asked quickly.

Ernie didn't say anything and just shoved more food into his mouth.

"If you're going to be out in the open about it tomorrow night why not just tell us now?" Draco probed.

"If your date is a 'he' that really narrows down the guessing field," Hermione said excitedly. The gears in her head began turning quickly. "Is he…James Bradley? That Ravenclaw a few years ahead of us?"

"I'm not telling you two. Stop guessing!"

"Tell you what Grangie, let's take bets as to who it is," Draco said with sparkling eyes.

"What kind of bet?" she asked with an eyebrow raised.

"What kind do you think?"

Hermione blushed again, but found herself agreeing. "We have to submit our guesses by five tomorrow. Whoever loses has to do whatever—"

"Hi!" Ernie said loudly. "Yeah, I'm still here. And believe it or not, I would rather not know about your sex life. Even though you two just can't wait to hear about mine."

"Finish your sentence, Granger," Draco said roughly staring her down intensely.

She returned his heated stare. "Whoever loses—"

"LALALALALALALALALALA!" Ernie shouted drawing the attention of most of the small shop.

"We'll talk later," Hermione said when Ernie finally stopped being obnoxious.

"I would also like to say, I totally knew you two were going to shack up," Ernie said with a smirk. "And I call being godfather."

Hermione shot him an unbelieving look. "I'm not pregnant."

"Yet," Ernie added quickly. "But judging by the way Draco is staring at you right now, I don't think it'll be too long now."

"Ernie, lower your voice!" Hermione said in a worried voice. "And Draco, stop giving me sex eyes," she whispered harshly.

"Should've had round two this morning, Granger," he said quietly.

Ernie almost choked on the pancake that he had shoved down his throat.

"Draco!" she squeaked. "Anyone could be listening in. I would prefer no more articles about us in the paper."

Draco just shrugged his shoulders. "Hurry up and eat Mack, we're going to be late."

"No thanks to you," Hermione muttered at Draco.

"What was that, love?" Draco asked with a grin on his face, clearly having heard what she said.

Hermione wanted to throw an insult back at him, but instead she found herself internally melting when he called her 'love'. She smiled happily and murmured, "Nothing."

Draco looked at her questioningly, but Ernie finished eating at that moment and stood up noisily. "Off to work then?" he asked.

Hermione stuffed her and Draco's books into her purse, entwined her hand in his welcoming one and walked across the street. They navigated their way through the lobby avoiding the Welcome Witch at all costs (yes a small child was gently nudged in the determined path of the overbearing witch in question, but try and prove it). Because it was only herself, Draco, and Ernie on the lift when they made it to the third floor Draco noisily kissed her goodbye, much to Ernie's displeasure. Hermione faintly wished him a good morning and said that she'd see him in a few minutes for the Miracle Squad and continued up to the fourth floor. She hummed happily to herself not believing how easy it was to be in a relationship with Draco. She knew that she should still be more mistrusting of him, and she found it odd how easily she felt comfortable with him and how quickly they had slept together. But that was thing, it was easy. Everything about Draco just put her at ease. Hermione thought of the blue light again as she walked to her office. Her mind flicked to the Ball the following night, she hadn't told Draco, but Narcissa had gotten her another dress—how Narcissa knew that the lot of them were going to the Ball…—, and it was lovely. She couldn't wait to see Draco's reaction tomorrow night.

Now she just had to figure out who Ernie was dating so that Draco would have to be her slave for a day…


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N**: All dresses are linked on my profile page.

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: The Halloween Ball

Hannah looked at herself in the mirror. Her long dress clung to her body tightly flaring out slightly at the waist creating an a-line skirt. The soft peach colour of her dress almost blended in with her skin so that the dark blue branches crawling up the entire dress looked like they were growing on her skin. Hannah slipped on a pair of simple black heels and made sure that her hair was still in a perfect ballerina bun. She put on her dangling rose petal earrings and smiled in delight. Hannah donned her black fall cloak and ran to the door of her flat just as Theo arrived. He kissed her gently before complimenting her outfit. For his part Theo was wearing a basic dark grey tux. His hair was parted to the side and Hannah thought she saw evidence of some product. He looked nervous. She grabbed her black clutch and grasped his hand with a large smile on her face.

"Shall we?" she asked happily.

* * *

Neville watched as Luna walked out of their bedroom wearing a poufy tea-length red and black dress. She had attached a small top hat on an angle above her long flowing curls. Her touted radish earrings were dangling from her ears and, to Neville's surprise she was wearing red lipstick and tall black heels. Luna smiled at his casual dark blue suit.

"You look lovely Luna," Neville breathed.

"I believe I do," she said dreamily. "And so do you."

Neville smiled, still able to feel nervous in the presence of his girlfriend of three years. Neville offered his arm up to her and she willingly linked hers through his. "I am so happy I asked you out after the Final Battle."

"As am I," she said softly.

* * *

"What time is it?" Ginny shouted over her shoulder as she tugged on her tight dress.

"Where is your clock in this mess of a flat?" Blaise called back.

"Don't insult my flat!"

"Then clean it!"

Ginny sighed and noticed that her laptop was open. The screen saver said 6:05 pm. "Shit. Blaise, get your tight arse in here and zip me up!" she shouted into the living room. Ginny was unsure what he was currently doing. _He better be ready to go!_

Blaise walked into her room adjusting his tie as he walked. He almost tripped over a discarded pair of heels. Regaining his balance he marched over to Ginny and tugged her zipper up gently; it was one of those 'invisible' ones that are impossible to work and break faster than Ginny's resolve whenever Blaise smiled at her.

"There, now can we leave? We're supposed to get there early, and we're already late."

Ginny turned around to tell Blaise off, seeing as he wasn't even wearing shoes yet, but she was distracted by how attractive he looked in his three piece light grey suit. Blaise was likewise eyeing her deep purple dress; it was satiny, had green highlights and seemed to shimmer green in certain lights, cinched in at the waist, showed ample cleavage, hugged her tight until about knee level where it fell gracefully, it even had a small train. Ginny had styled her hair in gentle waves to one side of her head with a sparkling flower hairpiece. Her lips were blood red. Blaise pulled her close to him and tried to kiss her senseless, but Ginny pushed him away.

"Lipstick Blaise. Plus my hair, I spent ages on this look, if you mess it up…" she threatened.

"Fine, let's leave then," he huffed.

Ginny rolled her eyes and pecked him on the lips quickly. "That's all you get."

She walked out of her flat ahead of him and he watched her go with a smile on his face. _That dress is something else…_

* * *

Lavender shimmied into her poufy pink dress that was littered with crystals along the tight bodice. Her curly hair hung loose and wild. She examined herself in the mirror to make sure that not a hair was out of place and her makeup was still perfect. _Ron Weasley is going to see what he was missing out on tonight_.

* * *

Ernie gelled his hair differently for the fifth time. A hand reached out to stop him from adding more gel.

"Ern," he said, "you look great. We're going to be late."

"Are you sure you're ready for us to be public, because your fans might…"

"I know, Ernie, but I'm tired of hiding you," he planted a light kiss on Ernie's lips. "Now can we leave?"

Ernie nodded and watched his fit boyfriend walk out of the bathroom. Ernie smiled at his tight tuxedo thinking about how much better it was going to look on his bedroom floor later that night.

* * *

Pansy looked at herself in the mirror. She was going to wear her usual dark makeup but instead she decided to go a little lighter than usual; she put on less eye shadow, emphasizing her winged eyeliner in its place. Pansy curled her eyelashes for the fifth time that evening and made sure that her hair was still pin straight. She had parted it to the side and held back one side with a simple diamond encrusted bobby pin. Her dress was long royal blue satin with a high slit that ran along her right leg so that she was always showing some skin. It had lace cut-outs along the ribs and a black belt around her waist. Pansy loved it for its simplicity. She paired the dress with her tallest pair of black ankle boot heels so that her dress was not dragging on the floor. Pansy picked up her small black clutch with a diamond X in the middle of it. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror before donning emerald green robes.

She didn't care who, but she was coming home with someone tonight. _They're too many happy couples in my life._

* * *

Harry paced back and forth in his flat as Ron watched him.

"Harry you're going to be fine."

"I hate speeches," he sulked. "Why do I have to give a speech? It's not like I like to remember my parents' death or the war."

"I know, mate. But people like to commemorate the dead. You only have to read from your cue cards. It'll be over before you know it. It's not like anyone's judging you."

"Everyone's judging me, I'm the freaking Chosen One."

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry's usual dramatics. "Sure, anyway, the Chosen One can't make mistakes 'cause you were probably meant to say whatever it is you're going to say. Can we leave now, please? Hermione's going to nag us for being late."

Harry adjusted his tux and threw his cloak over it. Ron was already fully cloaked and waiting by the door.

"Yeah, let's get this night over with."

"George said to meet him at the joke shop, we'd better hurry," Ron added after looking at his pocket watch which said 6:15.

* * *

"What's your final guess?" Hermione asked from her bedroom as she magically clothed herself in her intricate dress. It was mostly white, littered with rose petals and butterflies. Above the empire waist, however, the dress was a soft rose colour. One strap turned into actual branches as it went over her shoulder while the other one was littered with more intricate fake flowers and butterflies. The back of the dress went low down her back with branches on one side and a wide white strap on the other. The dress pooled at her feet, even with her tall black heels.

"You say yours first."

"No way," Hermione argued back. She walked into the living room and Draco stared at her in awe.

He stood slowly. "Granger, I don't know if you know this, but you're beautiful."

Hermione flushed happily. "Thank you. You look dashing, as usual."

"As usual? You find me this roguishly handsome all the time?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but silently agreed. She examined her reflection in the mirror and decided that she really loved Narcissa's pick for the dress, again. This time it was less sexy and far more sophisticated, probably because Hermione already had Draco's interest. Hermione had styled her curly hair into a side bun with a dutch braid along her bangs that lead into the bun. She was wearing simple red studs in her ears, but when they hit the light a certain way she could swear that the red inside of the earring was moving.

"And your hair…You are a miracle worker. How did you take your rats nest and come up with this?" he asked incredulously.

"Wow, I see now why everyone still calls you a git."

"It's a compliment." She gave him a dark look. "You know I love your messy hair anyway," he tried to backpedal.

"Do I? You often call it a tangled mess, or a shaggy mane, or, your personal favourite seems to be 'rat's nest'. Most people aren't too fond of rats' nests, Draco."

"Okay, I'm a git. Your hair is beautiful in all of its tangled glory. Better?" he asked, knowing that it wasn't.

"You have to tell me what your guess is before we leave," Hermione reminded him, eyeing his three piece black suit and loving the way it looked on him.

"You first."

"No way, you'll just copy me."

"At the same time then?" Draco suggested.

Hermione slung her beaded bag over her shoulder and agreed. "On the count of three."

"On three or after three?"

"After three."

"Then why do we say 'on the count of three'? If usually it's after—"

Hermione cut him off and starting counting: "One."

"Two."

"Three."

"Oliver Wood!" Hermione shouted as Draco shouted, "James Bradley!"

"I knew you'd just copy my answer from earlier. Well it's too late to change now," Hermione smirked.

"There's absolutely no way that Oliver Wood is gay. Wasn't he engaged to some lady from Beauxbatons?"

"Was he?" Hermione asked. This was news to her.

"It was all over the news like two years ago. You are the most oblivious smart person that I know."

"You're just full of compliments tonight," she said dryly. "Well, we'll see who's correct in a few minutes! Let's go, we're way beyond late and Pansy's going to go on and on about how we were too busy shagging and that's why we're late."

"Well we were."

"Don't tell her that!" Hermione said blushing at the memory of their impromptu shag session on Draco's office desk in his flat. "Say that we were…reading a book. That's believable."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You are a terrible liar. She's going to know either way that we were shagging. We've only just started dating. It's what new couples do."

"Thanks for that information, I'll keep that in mind for my next relationship," she said lightly. Hermione grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him onto the balcony. Draco leaned down and kissed her right as she _apparated_ them to the Ministry.

* * *

"Everyone have their tickets?"

A chorus of affirmative responses chimed in.

"Good. Remember that you need to arrive precisely at the time that we discussed or we will look too suspicious. We cannot appear together. Make sure to secure the exits to the Floo network before anyone starts casting spells. Wait for your signals. And only use the stolen wands, or they can trace them right to us. The portkey is the giant ice sculpture of the Potters."

"Ironic," someone laughed.

"It leaves at 9:45 exactly. If you're not on it you're not with us. Make sure to ditch the stolen wands _before_ you get on the portkey. Just as discussed, only attack the people you were assigned. It will be pandemonium. We are doing the Lord's work. He will thank us for our devotion."

There were affirmative murmurs throughout the dank basement.

"May the Dark Lord be with you all tonight. I'll see you all at 9:45 at the ice sculpture."

* * *

Pansy walked up to Hannah and Theo who were standing slightly off to the side of Luna, Neville, Blaise, Ginny, Harry, Ron, Lavender, and George who were all congregated in a small area waiting to check their cloaks with the grumpy looking witch. Hannah greeted Pansy warmly and the women complimented each other on their wardrobe. Theo also complimented Pansy whereas she made fun of his gelled hair. Theo was subconsciously patting his hair, Hannah assuring him that it looked "very cute", when Pansy turned around to see her idiot best friend apparate into the atrium with his lips glued to Hermione's. Pansy smiled despite herself as they continued to kiss deeply. She noticed several cameras flash. Hermione pulled away from Draco when that happened and shot a glare at the guilty blond who smiled smugly in response. Pansy waved them over and watched as Hermione walked unsteadily over to their group, Draco's arm linked in hers.

Pansy admired how original Hermione's dress was and found herself somewhat jealous. Although, she knew that she would never have been able to pull that dress off because it was far too modest for her tastes. _Narcissa must have bought it_.

"It's everyone's favourite couple," Pansy said in way of greeting.

Pansy was not prepared for Hermione pulling her into a quick hug. Hermione also hugged Hannah and Theo. _She's in a good mood_.

"Hey everyone," Hermione greeted breathlessly. Draco just nodded politely.

"You two were just shagging weren't you?" Pansy asked bluntly.

Draco smiled smugly while Hermione blushed unhealthily. In way of response she detached herself from Draco's arm and went to say hello to the rest of her friends. Pansy admired the branches on the back of Hermione's dress as she walked away.

"I was told to tell you that we were reading a book. That's why we're late," Draco said.

"I bet you were," Pansy said with an eye roll. "Must've been a bloody good book if Hermione's overall state of euphoria is anything to go by."

"It's no problem that you're late," Hannah said, "Theo and I were the only ones on time."

"Is Mack here?" Draco asked excitedly, suddenly remembering that he needed to see the Hufflepuff's date.

"I believe he's over there," Pansy pointed.

Draco wandered away and began loudly asking Ernie where his date was (in the loo). The rest of their large group reached the front of the coat check line and slowly handed over their cloaks. Pansy eyed Ron's gangly frame in a simple blue dress shirt and black dress pants. She made herself look away from his slender form and instead her eyes wandered the crowd that was heading toward the ballroom; she needed to find someone to bring home with her. Pansy's eyes landed on a wizard who she didn't recognise who appeared to be about her age. _He'll do_, she thought while her eyes roamed his body heatedly.

"I feel sorry for that bloke," Ron commented, walking up beside her as they waited on the last few members of their group to get rid of their cloaks.

Pansy snapped back to reality and cleared the images of the wizard out of her mind. "Pardon?"

"The way you're eyeing him. Like he's prey…"

Pansy smirked. "Easy prey," she corrected and sauntered over to the said wizard to introduce herself.

Ron watched her walk away, her blue dress flowing in her wake.

"Ron!" Harry called at him from the crowd that was moving toward the ballroom.

Ron had to clear images out of his mind from that damned fantasy potion that he took like the reckless fool that he was. He jogged to catch up with Harry as they all entered the massive and impressive ballroom. A large staircase at the entrance descended onto a largish dance floor which was surrounded by various-sized circular tables. A stage stood at the far end of the ballroom and a witch sat behind a piano playing softly. A large sparkling chandelier with pumpkins hanging from it hung above the dance floor. The room was lit by floating candles, just like Hogwarts. A large ice sculpture of Lily and James Potter holding baby Harry could be found to the left of the staircase. The ballroom was filling up quickly and Ron watched as Ginny half ran (with difficulty because of her long tight dress) to a table large enough to accommodate them all. She proceeded to glare at anyone who tried to approach the table.

Ron sat himself beside Harry with an empty seat to the side of him. Hermione sat on Harry's other side beside Draco, then Hannah and Theo, George, Ginny and Blaise, Ernie who was saving an empty seat beside him, and Luna and Neville, who also had an empty seat beside him. Lavender, in her ridiculously large and even more obnoxiously pink ball gown, made to sit beside Ron, and Ron, perhaps foolishly said, "I'm saving a seat for Pansy."

"You can sit beside me, Lavender," Neville said pleasantly.

"Thanks, Neville," she said tightly and sat down with difficulty—her dress was really far too large.

Ron pretended to listen in on Hermione and Harry's conversation about the difference between Muggle Halloween and Wizard Halloween, but his thoughts were far away, more focused on a certain short brunette who always wore crazy tall heels. Said brunette slid into the empty seat beside him smiling broadly.

"What's his name then?" Ron asked, trying to sound friendly despite his unexpected and ferocious jealousy.

"Robert. Rather boring bloke actually," Pansy said while smoothing down her dress.

"Why's that?"

"He works at the Ministry as that bloke that takes your wand if you're here for a trial. Dull job, dull man. Although he appears to work out, which will be much appreciated when I'm pressed up against a wall somewhere..." she said almost wistfully.

Ron did not succeed in dispelling the image of him holding Pansy up against the wall while he—

"Doesn't much matter what his job is, either way," Pansy said flippantly, cutting off Ron's fantasy. "He's the only decent looking bloke in this building who is unattached and won't expect anything past one night."

Ron shifted uncomfortably at the idea of Pansy and Robert. "I see." He also thought that he filled that description pretty well, except that he found that he wanted to see her for more than one night.

"How did you enjoy your potion?" Pansy asked loudly, causing Lavender to look over at them and cast Ron a rude glare.

"I—"

At that moment the candles dimmed and the pianist stopped playing. Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt took the stage.

"Welcome to our annual Halloween Ball. I'm going to keep my speech rather short so that we can start eating. I want to thank you all for coming out tonight. Halloween marks the deaths of two very important people who would unknowingly save our world. I speak of course of Lily and James Potter who sacrificed themselves to save their son Harry Potter who later sacrificed himself to save us all from Lord Voldemort." Ron felt Harry shift uncomfortably in his seat. "I would like to have a moment of silence for the Potters."

The hall which was filled with shifting and whispering beforehand became dead silent. Ron preferred to relive his fantasy potion than reflect on the War and think about Fred. Kingsley finally started talking again.

"Please join me in welcoming Harry Potter to the stage to say a few words." The hall roared with applause.

Ron patted Harry on the back encouragingly as he stood and stumbled up to the stage.

"Thank you for inviting me to speak tonight," he said stiffly, very clearly reading from his cue card and quite obviously not thankful to be delivering a speech. "I am honoured that this ball exists to commemorate the lives of my parents, but it is not only my parents' lives that were sacrificed during the first and second wizarding wars, but so many others who will remain nameless to you all. And I—er—think that it's really important that we remember those nameless witches, wizards, and even Muggles." Harry shuffled his cue cards, having lost his place. "Er—I think that it's—uh—important that we work together to keep building a harmonious future, no matter our blood status." This was met with polite clapping, except for at Ron's table where everyone cheered loudly, particularly Ginny and Blaise. "Enjoy your evening tonight everyone." Harry bowed awkwardly. "Thanks," he said before hurrying off of the stage.

Loud applause followed him to his seat. As it died down George shouted loudly, "And he's single ladies!" This made several people in the room crane their necks to stare at Harry who was now distinctly red in the face.

Kingsley took the stage again. "Well said Mr. Potter. Let's eat, shall we?" Kingsley waved his wand and food appeared in the centre of each table.

Ron pat Harry on the back. "Well done, mate."

"You had to shout that didn't you, George?" Harry said accusingly.

"Hey, just looking out for my friend. Judging by the looks of about ten women currently staring you down, I'd say you're going to have a fun night!" he winked.

Hermione laughed at Harry's reddening face. She began serving herself some pumpkin soup. Draco's hand was resting on her thigh lightly. He dipped his spoon into Hermione's soup and took a sip of it.

"Hey!" she complained. At that moment the empty seat beside Ernie was filled. Hermione's mouth curled up into a triumphant smile and Draco's hand slid off of her thigh.

"No," he breathed

"Yes!" Hermione screeched.

Ernie looked across the table at the couple and smiled. "This is my boyfriend, Oliver Wood. I believe that most of you are familiar with him."

Hermione looked at Draco's shocked face and began laughing hysterically. Draco finally pulled his eyes away from Oliver who was kissing Ernie on the cheek.

"Stop laughing, Granger."

"So when does our little agreement start? Right now? Tonight? Tomorrow?" she asked excitedly.

"You cheated."

"No I didn't!"

"Prove it."

"Just admit that you're wrong, Malfoy."

"Never."

Hermione smiled at his defiant face. "We'll see about that…" was all she said before questioning Ernie. "It's because he's a Quidditch player that you kept it secret? Being in a relationship ruins the image? That sort of thing?"

Oliver nodded. "My agent insisted that until we knew we were serious I was not allowed to say a word."

Hermione was delighted that she beat Draco, and pleasantly surprised with Ernie's choice in man, she had been expecting someone less intense than Oliver Wood. "Well I'm glad you two are together," she said happily.

Draco just shook his head in disbelief. Hermione placed her hand on his thigh soothingly. He resolutely ignored her and instead helped himself to more of her soup while Harry, Oliver and Ginny spoke Quidditch with one another.

"I know that we're in a relationship now, Malfoy. But you can eat soup from your own bowl."

"I can, but where's the fun in that?"

As the meal came to a close the pianist was joined by a few violinists, and a cellist. The music became more upbeat and couples slowly began to take to the floor. Draco stood and offered his hand to Hermione who took it enthusiastically. His hand went to her lower back and directed her to the centre of the dance floor. Draco looked down at her slightly worried face as he placed a hand on her waist, her hand on his shoulder and her other one in his.

"Don't worry, Granger, just follow my lead." He started twirling them expertly around the dance floor, slowly at first until Hermione got the hang of it, then he sped up their tempo to properly match the music.

Draco stared into her glittering eyes and pulled her closer to him. Dancing was one of Draco's secret passions, ever since he was forced to learn every choreographed dance in the book, and he realised that he was quite good at them. He also loved watching Hermione smile at him broadly, trusting him to bring them in the right direction. Her dress flowed majestically as they twirled around, clearly altered by magic to make it look even more graceful. The music slowed and Draco pulled Hermione flush against him, his hands low on her back. She rested her head on his shoulder with her face turned inward, probably so that she didn't have to see all the idiots that were staring at them angrily. Draco preferred this type of dance with her, where he could feel her strong heartbeat pressed up against his chest, their bodies melding together.

Draco noticed Pansy was still sitting at the table beside Ron. Everyone else, including Harry—George's little announcement must have worked—had abandoned the table to dance. Pansy appeared to be chatting with Ron happily. As Draco watched Ron blushed deeply.

"Granger, I think that our little revenge plot may have sparked a little something in our two best friends."

Hermione lifted her head and shot him a look. "'Our' revenge plot?"

"Yes, where we stuck Ron and Pansy—"

"I think you mean _your_ revenge plot. I clearly remember saying that I was having no part in it."

"You most definitely had a part in it."

"I did not!"

"You broke into her house with me."

"You—I—"

Draco smiled triumphantly at her angry face. "See? Now, back to my point: I think Pansy is interested in Ron. And ickle Ronnikins might be interested in her too"

Hermione laughed in his face. A few people looked over at the couple concerned. "You're funny."

"Seriously," Draco spun them around so that Hermione could see Pansy.

She was leaning ever so slightly toward the redhead and smiling broadly at whatever he was saying. As Hermione watched Pansy broke out laughing and Ron joined in. "Interesting…"

"I'd say. You know what? I bet it's because they never shagged that night, so now Pansy is intrigued by him, a man that said no to her."

"Ron is too fragile for Pansy."

"Pansy doesn't seem to think so."

"Draco, they're laughing, not snogging in a dark corner somewhere."

"Why, Miss Granger, what an excellent suggestion," Draco said and began to lead her off of the dance floor.

Hermione stopped walking, pulling Draco to a halt. "We are not going to snog in a corner!" she whispered harshly.

Draco broke out into a wide smile. "It was worth a try." He wrapped her arms around her again and lightly pulled her frame against him. Draco kissed her tenderly on the lips. "This will have to do then." He kissed her again slightly deeper, but pulled away shortly after, fully aware of how many people were watching them out of the corners of their eyes—and the ones who were staring outright. "I forgot to mention, you look particularly beautiful tonight, Hermione."

She smiled radiantly. "You already told me that," she reminded him.

"Did I?" he asked, fully knowing that he had before they left for the Ball.

She nodded. "But you can tell me as much as you like," she said while nestling her head against his shoulder again and allowing her eyes to drift shut. Draco spun them on the spot slowly, even once the music picked up again.

"Well you look amazing," he said softly and leaned his head down to rest on hers.

Pansy watched the couple enviously. She hadn't realised how badly she wanted someone. Not necessarily a boyfriend, but someone to dance slow dances with her. A quick glance around the room revealed that Robert was dancing—very terribly—with another witch who was much taller than Pansy. Pansy sighed. _Tall bitches_.

"He probably sucks in bed anyway," Ron said after sliding back into his seat from his short trip to the loo.

Pansy tore her eyes away from Robert the man-whore and the witch who had ruined her night that attached to his arm. She looked at Draco and Hermione again. Hermione had her head on Draco's shoulder. The side of his head was pressed against hers and Pansy thought that his eyes were closed. _The happy sod._ She also could have sworn that she saw a faint shimmering around their attached bodies, but she had already had two large glasses of straight Firewhiskey, so who knew.

She smiled at Ron's comment. "I bet you're right," she said.

The band started playing a fast paced waltz. Pansy felt Ron looking at her, so she turned to face him. "What do you say?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"Dance with you?" Pansy wanted nothing more, but said nonchalantly, "I suppose we can."

Ron grinned and pulled her to her feet. They stayed at the fringes of the dance floor and they spun around, not following the beat and in no way waltzing, but Pansy enjoyed herself far more than she would admit out loud. As the music slowed again Ron pulled her into him, while keeping an acceptable distance between the two of them. Pansy wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You're an awful dancer, Weasley."

"I know," he blushed.

Pansy suddenly remembered their earlier conversation that had been cut off. "So you never told me about the potion. What did you dream about? Did Potter hear you?"

Ron's face appeared to be so red it was giving off heat. Pansy smiled widely at his embarrassment as they swayed from side to side inexpertly.

"I didn't take it," he lied terribly.

"And I'm secretly a goblin. Tell me," she insisted.

"I thought that you said that you wouldn't threaten me anymore."

"No, you asked me not to, and I told you that that wasn't going to happen. Now tell me Weasley." Ron remained silent. "Please?" Pansy batted her magically curled eyelashes at him.

"It's not really appropriate to be discussing at a Ball," he said eventually.

"We'll just have to continue this conversation later then, won't we?" she said with a raised eyebrow. "Perhaps at my house?"

Ron gulped loudly.

* * *

Luna swayed alone on the dance floor while Neville went to get them champagne. She looked over at Draco and Hermione who had not left the floor in over an hour. She smiled slowly as she saw the blue shimmering light englobing the couple. As the other dancers noticed the light they slowly began backing away from the couple, who for their part, had their eyes shut and arms wrapped around one another. A general murmuring rose up from the crowd as they watched the blissful couple and the blue light intensify.

Luna accepted the flute of champagne from Neville with a quiet thank you. She continued to sway on the spot, but Neville was now joining the growing crowd of people staring at Draco and Hermione who had most of the dance floor to themselves.

"What's that?" Neville asked uncertainly. He took a step toward the couple, but Luna held him back.

"It's magic," she said pleasantly. "Don't worry, they're fine."

The rest of the crowd was not as easily placated however and the murmuring was now much louder, it began to drown out the band. As Luna watched Draco's eyes opened and he lifted his head from Hermione's shoulder. The blue light began to fade quickly. Hermione looked up at him confused. She looked around the dance floor to see a large ring surrounding them. The murmuring died down somewhat, but several people were still casting them distrustful looks.

"He's bewitched her," someone shouted suddenly.

"What was that blue light?" someone else added loudly.

"Someone arrest him!"

Hermione looked around her confused and clung tighter to Draco. "What's going on?" she asked him quietly.

His eyes were blazing with anger, but he said calmly, "I think they saw the blue light."

"Oh."

"So they think that it is some sort of spell."

"Hermione, get away from him!" someone else shouted.

Hermione looked around trying to locate the voice. "That's ridiculous. As if you could succeed in bewitching me."

Draco smiled at her. Of course she was offended that they thought she couldn't hold her own. She stepped away from him and entwined her hand in his. Draco looked down at her questioningly. Luna and Neville were walking toward them slowly as well as Pansy and Ron.

"Let's just leave. I believe that you have to own up to your end of our little bet," she said darkly.

Luna reached them then. "Your magic is lovely," she said serenely.

Draco noticed Hermione's right eye twitch and he had to hold back a laugh. "Thanks Luna," she said tightly. "We're going to head out."

"What was that light, Hermione?" Ron asked from Pansy's side.

"Their magic," Luna said again, this time less dreamy.

Everyone looked at her and refrained from rolling their eyes. "Right…" Pansy said slowly.

"Sometimes when we're…close together a blue light surrounds us," Hermione said simply, holding Draco's hand tightly as the crowd's murmurs got louder still.

"When you're 'close'?" Pansy's asked with a raised eyebrow causing both Ron and Hermione to blush lightly.

"But why?" Ron asked.

"It's their magic," Luna insisted.

"We're not sure," Hermione said, ignoring her.

"Will someone please listen to me!" Luna shouted. Everyone looked at her, surprised that she had raised her voice. "It's their magic."

"Yes, you said that," Pansy said impatiently.

"Sometimes our magic manifests itself visibly. But especially when two people are magically compatible." Everyone continued to give Luna a blank look. "Didn't your parents tell you this? Daddy told me ages ago. And not only does your magic appear visibly, but you become more powerful when you're together. There is a rumour that the light produced can actually create a shield."

"Right…" Hermione said doubtfully. "Well, anyway, we're going to leave, I would prefer not to deal with people accusing Draco of cursing me."

"If you leave then those idiots win," Pansy said, stepping in Hermione's path. "What're you all looking at?" she shouted at the crowd still staring them down. This caused a few people to look away and slowly the attendees began dancing again, but far away from Draco and Hermione. "There," Pansy said triumphantly planting her hands on her hips.

"How about we sit for a bit," Draco suggested and tugged Hermione gently back to their table.

"I just can't believe the nerve of these people. We are at an event that is about building a brighter future and their first thought is that you've cursed me!" Hermione said shrilly as Draco lead her to her chair. The others stayed behind on the dance floor.

"Well it is a weird light to see for the first time," Draco commented.

"Don't you take their side in this, Draco," she threatened.

"Hermione, you're getting all worked up over nothing. A few people thought that maybe I cursed you because, let's be honest, why would you be dating someone like me?"

"What do you mean?" she asked defiantly.

"Let me spell it out for you: you're Hermione Granger, representative of all things good and Muggleborn. I'm Draco Malfoy—"

"You're Draco Malfoy, my attractive and intelligent boyfriend. I can date whomever I please," she sniffed. "Clearly I've forgiven you for being a right arse, you were a victim of the war just like the rest of us. Why can't anyone see that?" she hissed.

Draco smiled at her softly, his heart warming at how quickly she rose to his defence. He scooted his chair closer to her and leaned his forehead against hers. "You are adorable when you defend my honor."

"I hope they're all watching right now," she said strongly. Hermione titled her head and smashed Draco's lips against hers. He groaned and pulled her closer to him, heat flaring up in his chest. Hermione threaded her hands into his hair and pushed her tongue into his mouth.

A loud scream ripped them a part.

"A bit of an overeactio…" Draco trailed off as he noticed the chaos that had overtaken the ballroom in the short seconds that they were kissing. People were running in all directions, wands brandished in front of them. Most people were headed up the staircase to the atrium so that they could apparate.

Hermione's wand was out in a flash. She snapped to her feet and assessed the situation quickly. As far as she could tell several small duels were taking place on the dance floor. Hermione saw Harry, Ginny, and Blaise duelling two people with hoods casting their faces into shadow. Pansy was duelling a woman whose hood had fallen down. Pansy stood protectively in front of Ron's unmoving body where he appeared to be collapsed on the floor. Hermione thought that she recognised the woman from Hogwarts, but she couldn't place her. Neville and Luna were rushing to Pansy's aid. Hermione made to run to Ron's side to make sure that he was still breathing, but she was held back by Draco. Draco pushed her to the ground as a bright red light whizzed over their heads. It was so close that Hermione could smell burnt hair.

"Thanks," she said turning her body toward where the attack came from. Two more hooded figures were advancing toward them calmly. Hermione stood and felt an eerie calm come over her body as she flung a stunning curse in their direction. She could no longer hear anything but her ragged breathing as she shot another stunning spell their way.

Draco and Hermione danced around the tables, flinging spell after spell toward the dark witches or wizards. Hermione made sure to stay as close to Draco as possible, somewhat irrationally afraid that the moment they were separated something bad was going to happen. They found themselves backed into a corner. The hooded figures advanced slowly, no longer shooting spells their way.

"Why are you doing this?" Draco asked between breaths.

A firm voice responded, "Because you are a blood traitor. We are doing the Dark Lord's work. We are cleansing the world of scum like you and your little pet."

"I am not his pet," Hermione said rashly.

"Quiet Mudblood," said the other one.

"Don't you dare call her that!" Draco roared.

"You're going to pay for your treason," the second voice said lifting her wand and pointing it at Draco's chest.

Hermione, without thinking of what she was doing, stood in front of Draco with her wand pointed toward their attackers. She reached back for his free hand and clung to it tightly. "You. Are. Not. Touching. My. Boyfriend," she said icily, punctuating each word.

As she stood there, staring down the wrong end of two wands she felt the overwhelming need to ensure that Draco was safe. As Hermione watched the blue light shimmered to life around their bodies, except that it went opaque, whereas it was usually at least somewhat transparent. Hermione and Draco were cocooned in silence for a split second and she heard both of their heavy breathing. A second later the light snapped to her outstretched wand arm, travelled down the length of her wand and cast five spells at once. Brilliant blue jets of light whizzed across the ballroom to hit each of the attackers in the chest. They all slumped to the ground immediately. Hermione suddenly felt very drained and fell back into Draco's arms as the world around her went dark.

* * *

She came to about a minute later to see Draco's concerned face staring down at her. He sighed in relief and kissed her quickly. Ernie and Oliver were also there. Hermione blinked rapidly as she looked around the mostly empty ballroom. She stood on unsteady feet and ran over to Ron who was still on the ground, Pansy, Harry, Ginny, Blaise, and George surrounded him. Hermione collapsed to her knees beside him.

"No," she said roughly, tears stinging her cheeks.

"We're not sure what they hit him with," Harry said quickly. "We tried to reverse a stunning spell, but it didn't work."

Hermione ran her wand up and down his body quickly. He was breathing, but he was much paler than usual, his freckles standing out prominently. Hermione's hand shook as she scanned his body slower, trying to find what she had missed. Draco sidled up beside her then and placed a hand comfortingly on her knee.

She took a shaky breath. "Well it has to be a stunning spell because his vitals don't seem terrible. He is breathing a little shallowly. I think he hit his head badly when he fell. Draco, Ernie, I need you to lift him for me, we're going to St. Mungo's. Harry, where's Kingsley?"

Draco and Ernie trained their wands onto Ron and he rose into the air gracefully. It was then that Hermione noted that Pansy had been holding onto his hand. She let go as he rose.

"He's with the attackers," he said pointing to five people tied together with thick ropes. "We're waiting for the rest of the Aurors to get here."

Hermione nodded. "I'll be at St. Mungo's," she then whipped her heels off, hiked her dress up and hurried up the staircase to the Atrium, Ron floating behind her.

Once at the hospital Hermione had the Welcome Witch (who for once Hermione was happy to see) send down the night staff from the third and fourth floors with supplies. She had Draco and Ernie place Ron onto one of the floating stretchers in the lobby.

"If it's a stunning spell why is he getting paler?" Hermione muttered to herself. "Think! Think!"

"Granger," Draco tried to say.

"Shut up, I'm thinking," Hermione snapped as she circled Ron's stretcher. Ron's breathing became more and more swallower. "Of course!" she said brightly. "It's an oxygen deprivation spell! It makes your lungs get smaller and smaller until you suffocate." She remembered reading about it in one of the many torture books from the Manor.

Pansy was suddenly at Hermione's side. "That's great, Hermione, now make it stop!"

"_Spiro_," Hermione uttered with a swish of her wand. To everyone's relief his eyes opened as he took a large gulp of air. Ron then began coughing violently. Luckily the healers arrived with a sleeping potion and Hermione uncorked it and shoved it down Ron's throat. Most of it was coughed back up, but he must have swallowed some because his coughing died out and he fell asleep.

"What did you do?" Pansy demanded, panic evident in her voice.

"He's just sleeping. The potion will help with his coughing. He's going to be fine." Pansy relaxed somewhat, but continued to stare at Ron with a worried expression. "Can you move him to the fourth floor?" Hermione asked the Healers.

Ron was floated away a moment later. Hermione looked around the empty lobby to see that Ginny and George were also standing there looking very pale. Hermione looked at the worry painting their freckled faces and burst into tears. Warm arms pulled her into a hug. Hermione knew, before he even touched her, that it was Draco. She cried openly into his chest, smudging her makeup onto his white shirt. The sound of many people apparating into the lobby made her pull her wet face from Draco's chest. Hermione saw the rest of her friends as well as Kingsley Shacklebolt arrive. Upon seeing the tears in Hermione's eyes everyone assumed the worst.

"Please don't tell me…" Harry said softly, his voice cracking.

"No, he's alive. He's alive," Hermione croaked.

"Can we go see him, Hermione?" Ginny asked quietly. Blaise's hand was now thread through hers.

She nodded and brought the large group over to the staff lift and let everyone in. As the music played happily Hermione reassured everyone that he was fine and that he was going to be asleep for at least five more hours. They walked to the emergency patient room on the fourth floor and Hermione let everyone in with a flick of her wand. The receptionist at the end of the hall looked like she wanted to say something about the large group since, as the sign clearly indicated, visiting hours were from five until nine, and only two visitors were allowed at a time (Can't you people read?!). But Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, waved at her and she sat back down, confused as to who was hurt.

Ron already looked healthier. His face was only slightly pale and he was breathing evenly. Hermione and Draco hung back by the door; it was a very small area to cram over ten people into.

"You were right about Pansy," she whispered to Draco.

He smirked as he saw Pansy holding Ron's hand again and taking up the sole visitor's chair available. Ginny and George stood on the other side of the bed with their eyes riveted to Ron's face.

"I'm always right," Draco said, wrapping his arms around her so that he back was flush with his stomach. "You were amazing back there, Hermione," he whispered into her ear.

Kingsley broke the silence in the room: "This was clearly a pre-meditated attack. The prisoners are already in Azkaban, I'll be interrogating them tomorrow, but their attack was not very cleverly executed, which makes me think that we're dealing with amateurs," Kingsley said in his low, reassuring voice. "I'd like to thank you all tonight, especially Hermione for saving Ron." Everyone's eyes turned to Hermione and Draco as Kingsley continued talking. "How did you conjure that spell that stunned them all at once, Hermione?"

"I'm not entirely sure…I just didn't want them to hurt Draco," she said sheepishly. Draco tightened his hold around her momentarily.

"I think I might know," Luna piped up. For once no one rolled their eyes. "As I was telling Draco and Hermione at the Ball before the attack, when two people's magic is compatible, well more than compatible, more like, meant for one another," Hermione blushed fiercely, "it can sometimes manifest itself visibly. The colour is a combination of the individual magical signatures of the people involved. And the magic makes them stronger, if they feel happy, it gets stronger, if they feel threatened it gets aggressive."

"So you're saying Draco and Hermione are what? Soul mates?" Pansy asked from Ron's bedside.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. She heard Draco clear his throat behind her.

"I am shocked that none of you know about this. You could say that they're soul mates, yes," Hermione's heart clenched, "but it's really quite fascinating, magical compatibility, because it makes each person aware of the other, every touch is intensified." Hermione couldn't believe that Luna was finally right about something. "But of course, most people just think that it's an old legend," she added.

"Well no matter what it was, you prevented those people from hurting anyone else, Hermione. For that the Ministry thanks you. I thank you," Kingsley boomed into the awkward silence.

"We should probably clear out, it's getting late," Hannah suggested.

She and Theo were the first to leave. Everyone trickled out until it was Draco, Hermione, Ginny, George, Harry, and Pansy. The rest of them left Ginny and George alone with their brother. As they were getting onto the lift Arthur and Molly appeared looking very harried. They wordlessly pushed their way into the room.

Draco had his arm slung around Hermione's shoulders as the four of them rode the lift down to the lobby.

"I hate dances," Harry complained.

Hermione started to giggle despite herself until she, and everyone else in the lift were laughing heartily. However, Hermione found tears streaming down her face, and not from laughter. Hermione hugged Harry tightly and wished him a goodnight. He disappeared to his flat a second later.

"I am surprised in your taste, Pansy," Draco said to the brunette. "I saw you holding his hand, so don't even try to pretend."

"Ron's a decent bloke."

"I said I was surprised, not that I disapprove. Are you going to be okay being alone tonight?" Draco asked.

"I'll be fine." Pansy pulled Hermione into a tight hug. "You are terrifying when you work, Hermione."

"What?"

"She's right," Draco agreed.

"Your face gets really blank and you barely blink," Pansy clarified.

"And you're mean," Draco added in with a smile.

Hermione was unsure how to respond to this, so she just said, "It gets the job done."

"Thank you for healing Ron," Pansy said seriously. "I'm sure I'll see you all tomorrow morning in the visiting room," she said before turning on the spot and disappearing.

"Do you want to walk home, or apparate?"

"Apparate please," Hermione requested, not wanting to deal with the dark London alleyways.

Draco wrapped her into a hug again and disapparated from the lobby, just in the nick of time too because the Welcome Witch was walking toward them with a determined look on her face.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen: Secrets

Hermione lay in Draco's massive bed staring at his sleeping face. Crookshanks was snoring loudly from the end of the bed. As she memorised the mountains and valleys of his face she noticed the blue light appear and she felt her body tingle. The night before they hadn't done anything but cuddle one another, it was one of the best sleeps of Hermione's life.

"Stop staring," Draco mumbled sleepily without opening his eyes.

Hermione smiled, but kept on staring at him anyway. Draco cracked an eye open and stared into hers. He closed his eye again and rolled onto his back. One of his arms wrapped around her and pulled her half onto his chest. Hermione rested her chin on his chest and continued to stare at him. She noted how messy his hair was. She loved his hair, neat or messy.

"I always thought you were the most impressive witch that I ever met," he said sleepily. "You made me feel inadequate. That's why I was so rude to you."

Hermione didn't say anything, not wanting to jinx his sudden openness.

"When I saw you at the Yule Ball in fourth year…Merlin Granger, you were beautiful. And I realised that not only did I envy you, I wanted to be with you…In the forest after the World Cup, I was warning you to stay away. I knew you wouldn't listen if I was sincere, so I was rude. But it worked. Then when you started dating Krum, I was crazy jealous. I didn't know it at the time, of course. I just thought that a Muggleborn like you shouldn't be allowed to date a Pureblood Quidditch superstar like Krum. I allowed it to fuel my hatred for all things Muggle." Draco's eyes were still closed in the faint morning light. "I let my dad whisper into my ear for too long until it was too late for me to turn around. On the Astronomy tower with Dumbledore…If only Bellatrix were one minute later…" As Hermione watched a tear rolled down his high cheekbone. She reached up her thumb and wiped it away. "The quill is from Dumbledore. The one that you threatened to destroy. From his bird. He gave it to me during sixth year, right before—" his voice cracked.

"Draco…"

"And I stir my tea when I'm stressed out, which is usually around you. I started smoking as an excuse to leave my floor at the hospital, everyone just glared at me all the time. No one would talk to me. I got angry notes shoved under my door…I couldn't handle it, I had to get out. I guess I know how you must have felt in school whenever I looked at you with my ignorant hatred…and as you know smoking is highly addictive. Whenever I see myself in the mirror I avoid looking at my left arm because you can still see my faded Dark Mark reminding me forever how fucking stupid I was."

"Draco you don't have to—"

"Shut up, Granger. This is the only time you'll get any of this out of me," he opened his eyes then and looked at her. "What else do you want to know?"

"Why the _Cruciatus_?" Hermione asked without hesitation.

"Because of my father. Because of you," he closed his eyes again and continued talking quietly, "Voldemort tortured my father for my failures…he was never the same. And now that he's in Azkaban. I hate the man, I hate him. But I…"

"He is your father," Hermione said gently.

"Unfortunately."

"And me?" she asked cautiously.

"When you were being…when Bellatrix…and my wand moved of its own accord to create a sort of shield…I don't know, I had to know if something like that could be replicated. I also wanted to know what happened. But now I think that it has to do with this magical light nonsense."

"Why didn't you want your mom to know?"

"Because she gets weird whenever anyone talks about torture of any kind. Reasonably so, seeing as we had to witness so much of it…I didn't want to put her through that again."

"And why did you become a healer?" she asked, although she thought that she already knew his response.

"I needed to prove that I wasn't the same person that I was in school, that I wasn't really ever that person, but I felt the need to be because of my father…And the only thing that I ever enjoyed in school was potions."

"You named Nymphadora after Tonks?"

"Yes. I always wanted to know her, she seemed like fun, unlike the rest of my family."

"Why Muggle London?" she asked quickly, afraid that this impromptu Q & A was coming to a close.

"I'm a coward. I was too afraid of being attacked if I lived in a wizarding community and can't return to the Manor, even though my mother's had the entire West Wing demolished."

"You're not a coward," she countered.

"I am."

Hermione sighed, but decided to leave it for now. "What's your favourite colour?"

"Blue. Yours?" he opened his eyes again and looked at her expectantly.

"Blue. I think that's why our light is blue…"

"Why do you really wear glasses?" he asked.

Hermione had feared that he would be the one to start asking her questions. She sighed and decided to be honest, like he had been. "Ever since Bellatrix; when I get stressed out my hands tremble and my vision blurs. The glasses help with my vision and they also relax me."

"Does it bother you that my Dark Mark is still visible?" he asked almost inaudibly.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Yes." Draco nodded slowly, looking hurt for half a second before his face became blank. "But not entirely. It bothers me because it reminds me of that dark time, of Voldemort, but mostly because it reminds me how much you suffered and how much you wish that it were gone. I'm not going to lie, Draco, it's hideous. But it is also an essential part of you, of your past…of our past. It's like any scar. It doesn't define who you are, but shows us who you were. And it fades with every day."

"You've noticed?"

"I do have the privilege of seeing you naked," she quipped.

"It is very odd, ever since we started our little deal it's started to fade more and more."

"It must be trying to get away from my Muggle influence," Hermione smiled.

"Who was the other person that you slept with? Weasley and who else?"

"You have to tell me how many people you've—"

"Including you, eleven," he said rapidly. "Who is it?"

Hermione blinked at him in surprise. "I'm sorry, but how does an ex-Death Eater sleep with eleven people?"

"Muggles, and from when we were in Hogwarts," he said quickly. "Now who was it?"

"My neighbour at my parents' home, Henry," she admitted finally.

"I don't remember hearing about you dating a Henry."

Hermione avoided his eyes and mumbled, "I didn't."

"You had a one night stand with your childhood neighbour?"

"It might have been more than a one night stand…" she admitted.

"Hermione Granger!" Draco reproached.

"You've slept with eleven people and you haven't been in a relationship in years!" Hermione countered. "Did you ever officially date Pansy?" she asked finally, a question that she had been afraid to know the answer to for a long time now, because how could Hermione compete with Pansy Parkinson—pug face or not, she was far too seductive.

"Officially, no. We snogged a bit though, realised that we weren't good together. Pansy liked to pretend that we were still dating though, especially whenever she was trying to make someone of her interest jealous…"

Hermione had to hold back a sigh of relief. "Speaking of which, who did you date for two weeks and dump?"

"Astoria Greengrass," he said distastefully. "We were supposed to get married."

"After two weeks?"

"It was arranged since fourth year."

"That's insane."

"Well clearly it didn't happen. She was just awful; she complained about everything and stared at herself in the mirror for hours on end. Anyway, I felt off with her, like something was wrong. I've always sort of felt that way with the women I frequent."

"The women that you 'frequent'?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"That I have sex with."

"But not with me?"

"Not with you."

"I feel the same way…" Hermione sat up suddenly. "Do you have a copy of your family tree?"

"No, why?" he asked, sitting up as well.

"Because I think…I think I know why."

"Know why, what?"

"Luna's explanation is too odd, it felt like it was missing something. Do you have Veela in your bloodline anywhere?"

Draco laughed loudly. "It may have escaped your notice, but I don't have giant wings or fangs. I haven't marked you as mine and I don't really act like a caveman."

"But you have," she indicated the hickey on her neck that was now visible because her charm had worn off. "You love my neck. You always suck on it or bite it…And your silvery hair…the grey eyes…Why we don't feel right with anyone else. Compatible magic… Like Luna said, like soul mates; mates. Veelas only have one mate, for life and are incompatible with anyone else. You have to be part Veela!"

"Granger I'm not part Veela. Trust me, I've memorised every member of the Malfoy family tree for the past two hundred years and not one of them was a known Veela."

"Well they wouldn't be, Veela identities are often kept secret because the Ministry has to monitor them if they know about them, since they can be violently protective of their mates. In fact, it is common practice since the early 1800s for Veelas to hide their true identity their entire lives."

Draco shook his head in disbelief. "I'm not a Veela. Look at me! I'm not crazy strong, one look at me doesn't have girls clawing over each other to get to me."

"I'm not so sure about that. You have slept with eleven people," she reminded him while eyeing his toned arms—_does he even work out?_

Draco pulled Hermione onto his lap so that she was straddling him as he leaned against the headboard. "Granger, I'm not part Veela."

"And that explains why one touch from you makes me so hot. And why you're so good in bed!"

"What is it going to take to convince you that I am not a Veela?"

"Let's ask your mum, she'll know."

"Let's not and say we didn't."

Hermione hopped off of his lap just as Draco was leaning forward to kiss her. "I'll be back," she declared and made the trip back to her flat. She sent a quick owl to Narcissa and returned to Draco in bed within three minutes. She clambered back onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Back," she said before attaching her lips to his softly.

They shared several slow kisses that had Hermione's entire body tingling happily.

"If you're going to invite me over, you should really get dressed first," Narcissa said from Draco's bedroom doorway.

Hermione looked up at Draco sheepishly. "You left the balcony door open again, didn't you?" he accused.

"I'll make tea," Narcissa suggested and left the room.

Hermione just smiled and climbed off of his bed. She was wearing his Quidditch jersey which fell just past her bum. Draco rolled off the bed and into the loo. He found two robes and threw one at Hermione while donning one himself. She tied it around herself loosely.

"You're not mad, are you?" she asked into the silence.

"I'm mad that my mother interrupted us," he clarified. Draco walked into his living room to see the sun rising in the distance. "Blimey, Hermione what time did you wake me up at?"

"Draco, darling. How are you? I was so upset to miss our dinner last night. Now I'm hearing that the Ball was a disaster. Everyone is fine though, right?"

Draco eyed her tiredly and poured himself a cup of tea. He sat on his sofa beside Hermione. "Everyone is fine, mother. I'm not sure if Hermione specified, but she seems to think that I'm part Veela or some rubbish," he said right to the point.

"Hermione did let me know her thoughts in her letter."

"And?" Draco asked, wanting to prove her wrong.

"Well of course you're part Veela," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Draco spat out his tea in shock. "What!?" _Why do I keep losing bets to Granger?_

"I knew it!"

"Your father's great grandmother was a Veela. But when a Veela mates with a human they create human children, not Veelas, however part of the Veela line lives on through the generations; the blonde hair, the grey eyes, the good looks," Narcissa winked.

"You're 1/16 Veela," Hermione calculated.

"What does that mean?" he asked, concerned.

"Oh nothing really, just that you will only be happy with your mate. Every Veela has one person that they are destined to be with. It has something to do with magical signatures or some other nonsense. Your magic can be shared with her, you can sometimes talk to one another subconsciously, although I'm not so sure that you will be able too since you have such little Veela left in you. Oh that nonsense about the blue light that freaked everyone out at the Ball—"

"How do you—"

"Okay, I am still having you followed. Anyway, the light is your combined magic. It gets stronger when you're together and happy. It can be used as a defense, as I heard it was."

"So that means that Dad's a Veela too?"

"Of course."

"But shouldn't he be in more pain being separate from you?"

"I'm not your father's mate," she said sadly. "He never found her."

"That explains a lot," Draco muttered.

"But I'm so happy that you found Hermione," Narcissa said tears forming in her eyes.

Draco looked down at her and smiled. "Me too."

Narcissa left shortly afterward, leaving a small book about Veelas on Draco's coffee table as she went. Hermione, who was initially very glad to have discovered why she was so inexplicably attracted to Draco—well not entirely inexplicably, he was very smart, good looking, and had an unparalleled knowledge of the female anatomy—, found that she was starting to panic. _Mates for life_. _Never happy with anyone else? Soul mates!?_ She began to question if she even liked Draco or if it was just because of his Veela magic that she was attracted to him.

"This was a surprise," Draco said finally. He looked down at Hermione whose face had tuned a little white. "Are you okay, Hermione?"

"I'm still processing. I mean, I knew that I was right about the Veela thing, but it's still very…new."

"At least I'm not full on Veela, those things are creepy looking."

"Draco, now is not the time to be joking!"

"Sorry. I know that this is a lot to handle all at once. How do you think I feel?"

"You? I have absolutely no choice in the matter!"

"Neither do I! And last time I checked you seemed to like being with me, so what are all the complaints about, Granger?"

"I do like being with you!" She let out a frustrated sigh. "It's just that…forever is a long time, Draco. I'm not ready to start thinking about marriage or children. I know life is short, we both know that thanks for the War, but I don't think that means that we should make rash decisions just because—"

Draco took her hands into his and looked into her eyes. "Who said anything about getting married? Or children? Believe it or not, Hermione, I'm not going to force you to marry me and carry my children. I'm not a Neanderthal, just a pureblooded git. Forever is a long time. And we have all the time in the world together to get married and pop out children—or to not do any of that. I'm not asking you to make a 'rash decision', I just know that we're both happier together, so let's just take it a day at a time." _Please don't leave me_.

Hermione nodded slowly as her breathing slowed down. "So you're not going to haul me off to your bedroom to 'plant your seed' in me now that we know we're mates?" she asked with a slight smile.

Draco smirked. "Oh no, we're still going to do that," he said, lifting her into his arms and hauling her back into his bedroom. "Although, there will be no seed planting, just a lot of shagging," he corrected as he sat her onto his bed and untied his robe.

"We can't be too long if we want to visit Ron before they release him," Hermione said as she whipped off her own robe.

Draco pulled off his boxers. "Can we not and just say that we did?"

"No." She tossed his Quidditch jersey to the floor.

"You know where he lives, don't you? We can just visit him later on today." Draco climbed onto the bed and attached his lips to her neck as Hermione tugged her underwear off.

"Fine," she groaned. "But what are we going to tell—"

Draco cut her off with his lips. "I'm trying to plant my seed in you, woman. Stop talking."

Hermione giggled briefly before Draco made her forget her middle name.

* * *

Pansy walked into Ron's surprisingly visitor-free room. Ron was sitting up in bed reading a Chocolate Frog card. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that Ron was just like any other boy.

"Weasley, you gave us all a scare last night."

"Oh, hey Pansy."

Pansy sat down beside his bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh I'm fine, they're keeping me here until noon then I can leave. Need to keep me for 'observation purposes' or some bullocks like that."

Pansy noted that he was still wearing his dress shirt, although the top two buttons were undone and she found herself staring.

"What brings you here?" Ron asked.

Pansy looked up at his clear blue eyes. "You never told me about your fantasy," she lied, she wasn't here because she liked spending time with him, that would just be insane, and no one could prove it.

Ron blushed again and avoided her eyes. Pansy smiled triumphantly. She stood up and crawled onto his small hospital issue bed and straddled him. The blush on Ron's face darkened.

"What're—"

"Was I in it?" she asked as her hands trailed up his torso. Ron didn't answer. "I'll take your general embarrassment as a 'yes'." Pansy leaned forward as if to kiss him, at the last second she titled her head so that he kissed her cheek. Pansy whispered into his ear; "You were in mine too." She pulled her face away from his and remarked that his hands were around her waist. "Are you free tonight?" she asked, butterflies raging war in her stomach.

"Are you asking me out?"

"Are you saying yes?"

"Where are you taking me?"

"Enough with the questions, Weasley. Are you free or not?"

"Yes."

Pansy smiled broadly. She leaned toward him again for a kiss, but stopped when they were a few inches apart. Ron looked at her, confused. "I was going to kiss you, but then I remembered that you like to know the person before you get intimate…" Pansy pulled back again and hopped off of the bed easily.

Ron looked at her incredulously. "You're joking, right?"

"I'll pick you up at seven, we can get to know all about one another tonight, then we'll see about that kiss…" she said before sashaying out of the room.

Ron had the distinct feeling that he was in trouble.

* * *

"I'm trying not to be freaked out about this whole 'mates for life thing', okay. So stop pushing your luck."

"It only makes sense that I meet them, Hermione," Draco said from her bed as she packed her overnight bag.

"They don't even know that I'm seeing anyone, let alone that you're a wizard. The whole Veela thing will be too much for them to handle."

"We don't have to mention that I'm a Veela the second that I meet them."

"My parents don't trust anything magical anymore. Not since I _oblivated_ them and sent them to Australia. We'll probably never mention the Veela thing to them," the realisation that Hermione would be masking this fact from her parents for the rest of her life—_mates for life_—suddenly dawned on her. She took a ragged breath before continuing to reproach Draco, "So no, you cannot come. Maybe next weekend I'll tell them about us."

"I promise they'll love me," he pleaded.

"No."

"Do you have to stay overnight?" he whined.

"Draco, you're being clingy."

"I can't help it, it's the Veela in me."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "You can't use that as an excuse. You're only a fraction Veela, you're mostly human and you're being annoying. And it's never been an issue before whenever we spent time apart." Which was not entirely true, seeing as they both had trouble sleeping without the other. Draco pouted. "When I get back on Sunday night you can cook me dinner," she offered. Hermione shooed him onto her balcony, bag on her shoulders and cat in her arms.

"What do you want?" he asked sullenly.

"Whatever you want to make. I'd love a cake. I haven't had cake in ages. And maybe some lasagne?" Hermione stood on her tip toes to kiss his cheek lightly. "I'll see you Sunday night, yeah? And don't forget, I still haven't cashed in on winning our little bet."

Draco nodded and watched her disappear from his life. Okay, he was being melodramatic, but now that he had an excuse for the intense feelings that he harboured for Hermione, he found that he didn't want to let her out of his sight. He even found himself missing her over-sized beast-cat. He went back to his flat and started up a new video game. With any luck he would have it beaten by the time she returned to him. He was looking forward to her return because it meant that he would be her slave for twenty four hours, and he really enjoyed when she bossed him around.

Hermione, for her part, also didn't want to leave Draco's side, which was highly irrational, Veela magic or not; they had only been seeing each other for two weeks! She hugged her parents and helped them prepare a late lunch. Several times during her stay there she found herself opening her mouth to say that she was seeing someone, in the end she chickened out and stayed quiet. _Next week_, she told herself.

* * *

"Potter sent me an owl to let us know that the attackers confessed, after a lengthy interrogation. It was only the five of them. Apparently Travers was their ring leader until he got arrested. They were two years below us in school, I don't remember the names that he said. I'm sure they're on the letter somewhere. I shagged one of them in sixth year though, she was the one who hit Weasley. They really thought that they were going to kill us all and get away with it."

Hermione didn't seem comforted by this information. "Don't lie to me, I know that we know who the attackers were."

"Does it really matter, Granger? They're just a bunch of brainwashed idiots, one is no different from the rest."

"Did I know them?"

"Probably not, why does it even—"

Hermione cut him off, for some reason, needing to know their names, "Did you know them?"

"Obviously I knew them, they were Slytherins. Hermione, this wasn't a personal attack, this was because, like you said, we're the symbol of blood purity. The only thing that matters is that they're all behind bars and will be for the rest of their worthless lives."

"There could be others like them though."

Draco shrugged. "And they'll have to answer to you if they try anything. You are fearsome." Hermione glowed with pride. "I meant to tell you that before; you're a badass, Granger. It's definitely a turn on." Draco moved closer to her on the couch.

Hermione felt her magic come to life and she reached for her wand that she had put on his coffee table while they ate dinner. She cast a contraception charm then placed her wand back onto the table. Draco looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Where are the cats?" she asked as she lifted her jumper over her head.

Draco tore off his Slytherin jumper quickly. "No idea."

Hermione stood up off of the sofa and shimmied out of her loose jeans. She pulled Draco to his feet and deftly unbuckled his belt. She threw it over her shoulder and let his pants fall to the ground. He stepped out of them and pulled her into a heated kiss. Hermione pulled away, grasped his hand and lead him into his massive bedroom. Draco kicked the door shut behind them. This time that they had sex was different than their quick shags from the week before; it was long, slow, and intensely intimate, almost like their first time together, but deeper.

Draco stripped her and kissed his way over her entire body before even starting on anything sexual. By the time he finally rested his head between her legs she was dripping for him. And Draco took his sweet time bringing her to her first orgasm. She returned the favour, swallowing as much of his length as she could manage before Draco pulled her away so that he could slide into her gently. They stayed connected like this for a long time without moving, just kissing. When Draco finally started to move in her, his mouth was on her neck biting down lightly. The blue light was shimmering above their heads, nearly opaque. As they both tumbled over the edge Hermione had another out of body experience; she was outside of herself but could still feel the power of her orgasm as well as the pulse of Draco's. She snapped back into her body with a groan. They stayed connected for a long time, Draco kissing her neck languorously.

Draco finally rolled off of her. Hermione spooned him, despite the fact that she was very sweaty and hot, she needed to be touching him at that moment.

"I had a crush on you in sixth year," Hermione admitted breaking the silence.

Draco cleared his throat before saying, "What?"

"I know…I was as surprised at myself then as you are now. I knew that you wanted out of your household, that you were under a lot of pressure, so I felt sorry for you. The next thing that I know, I'm noticing you everywhere around the school, and your hair. I was obsessed with your hair."

"Was?"

"Okay, I still am…"

"How bad of a crush?"

"Well, I mean, I still really liked Ron, but he was being an absolute prat and dating Lavender. So I don't know…"

"Did you have sex dreams about me?" he asked seriously.

"I was seventeen."

"So that's a yes."

"Anyway, my crush didn't last very long after Ron dumped Lavender."

"Ouch."

"Get over yourself, you were a Death Eater, remember? Back in those days you were doing everything in your power to upset me."

"Touché. I secretly love your bushy hair," he said while he played with it.

"But all you do is make fun of it!"

"Well it _is_ a bit unmanageable, Granger. But sometimes I would randomly imagine shoving my hands in your hair as we snogged in some hidden corner of the castle."

"You're joking."

"Seriously, it was the oddest experience; I would think how much your life was a stain on my existence and the next second I would be imagining us in the far corner of the Restricted Section. Of course, it didn't happen that often, maybe three times during sixth year. When I saw you at Slughorn's party…"

"Why did you crash it?"

"Because I was a prat," Draco said. "But you looked gorgeous that night, Hermione." Changing the topic entirely, he continued, "I would just like to say that I enjoy shagging you, Granger." He was still playing with her hair gently, no doubt creating more tangles than she cared to unknot.

"How touching, Draco," Hermione said sarcastically. "Now stop talking, I want to sleep, we have to get up for work tomorrow. And I still get to cash in on our bet."

Hermione snuggled in closer to him while he pulled the covers over their bodies.

And so they fell into a comfortable routine with one another, living in each other flats (mostly in Draco's because let's be honest here, his flat was much larger), shagging in the shower before work, Draco cooking meals, going out with their friends on Friday nights, rushing home to shag one another senseless, getting into trivial arguments, makeup sex, going to see Ginny's Quidditch games together, treating victims of the _Cruciatus_, asking invasive questions about Ernie's sex life, avoiding the Welcome Witch at St. Mungo's like the bubonic plague, telephoning one another, seeing their happy faces in the newspapers on a weekly basis with titles like 'Pregnancy Scare in the Granger-Malfoy household' (_Ernie really needed to lower his voice when he spoke!_), discovering a spell that would hide their unsettling blue light when they were public so that people would stop accusing Draco of bewitching Hermione and Hermione would stop threatening to hex said narrow-minded people, travelling to France again for another date, going to a Muggle cinema, you know, all the common things that couples do these days.

* * *

Hermione held Draco's hand as she cut the ceremonial ribbon to the new Muggle clinic. A small crowd of St. Mungo's staff and reporters had gathered to watch the opening ceremony. Everyone cheered as the ribbon fell apart. Hermione threw her arms around Draco's neck and kissed him thoroughly, much to the pleasure of the reporters (mostly Rita Skeeter who enjoyed watching the couple kiss far more than she should've—perhaps she was reliving her own torrid affair with a young pureblood that ended badly with him moving to Romania after she published her first big article about his family and the pureblood way, or perhaps because she was just creepy like that) in the crowd and the displeasure of their friends in the front row. In the end Draco had paid for whatever Hermione couldn't fundraise for the ward. She didn't want to have to rely on him entirely, but she still appreciated the gesture none the less.

It was mid-November and the clinic opening also marked the end of their probation. They had decided, after much debate, to name the clinic: Granger Malfoy and Associates, Holistic Medicine. Hermione didn't want her name in the clinic at all, but she could not think of a more creative name. And Draco did not want him name in the clinic at all, but Hermione insisted as adamantly and he insisted that her name be in it. In the end, Bonham decided on the name for them which cut off all argument from the couple.

Hermione gave a tour to the small group gathered for the opening of the clinic. She had spent all of the proceeding night making sure that everything was perfect for the opening. Once the tour was over—the clinic was only nine rooms total plus the waiting room—Hermione thanked her friends for coming to support her and shooed them away ("it is a work day after all!"), promising to celebrate with them later on that night. When the clinic was finally empty, excluding her two fellow workers (Lynda and Perry), she showed Draco to her new office and they proceeded to christen it very loudly. Luckily Hermione, unlike Ron Weasley, was very good with wards and no one heard a thing.

Speaking of ickle Ronald, you're probably wondering how his dinner with Pansy went. In one word: terribly. He ended up spilling his red wine all over her sheer white dress. He tried, and monstrously failed, to siphon the wine out of her dress with his wand. Instead he made it stain permanently. To say that Pansy was less than impressed would be a gross understatement. The after-date, conversely, went quite well due to the fact that it was fortunately clothing-free. So when Ron poured chocolate sauce over Pansy's breasts, she was more than happy to allow him to clean them for her, with his tongue.

They had been on a series of dates that always ended without clothing, but they were not dating because 'they hardly knew each other'—this in turn meant that they went on more dates to 'get to know one another better' but of course these were all cut short by Pansy _apparating_ them back to her home. And thus the vicious cycle of shagging continued. Ron would have preferred that they were officially dating, but he was in no rush to suggest that Pansy declare her desire to shag him and him only, because she still intimidated him almost as much as—if not more than—his mother.

* * *

**A/N:** There's only one more chapter left and I'm not entirely sure that I like the ending, so I'll either give up and post very soon or it might be a long delay. Thanks for all the positive feedback!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen: Cashing In

Hermione turned off the television, cutting off the answer to "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" and causing Draco to shout out in protest; "Turn it back on!"

"I'm cashing in on our bet," Hermione said suddenly.

Draco looked at her and smiled slowly. "Took you long enough."

"Which means that you're mine for the next 24 hours."

"You've been planning this for a while now, haven't you?" Draco realised as she checked the clock hanging above Draco's television set.

"It had to be worth it, can't be interrupted by work, it would be such a waste of my limited amount of time."

"Clever witc—"

"Silence," she ordered him and Draco obligingly shut his mouth. "I want you to locate the cats, bring them to my flat and stock them with enough food and water for the next 24 hours."

"Yes ma'am."

Draco found the cats quickly and scooped them into his arms. He _apparated_ to Hermione's flat, let himself in and _accioed_ their food bowls from his flat, along with the large bag of cat food. He over filled their bowls, and even left the bag open in case they got hungry. He found a large mixing bowl in Hermione's cupboard and filled it with water. He placed it on the ground beside their food and patted Nymph quickly. "Have fun, cats!" he said merrily before reappearing in his own flat. Hermione had not moved from her spot on the couch. Draco eyed her longingly; she was wearing his Quidditch jersey, and nothing else.

"Close the curtains," she ordered, "And come here." Draco walked over to her leisurely, holding eye contact. He felt his body thrumming slowly with magic. "Give me your wand." Draco did so easily. Hermione smiled and placed it beside hers on the coffee table. "Remove your clothes," she smiled.

Draco began shucking his clothes quickly, excited at the prospect of being inside of her.

"Slowly," she commanded.

So Draco slowed his removal of his clothing—not that he was wearing much—; he peeled his Hogwarts t-shirt off slowly and tossed it behind him softly. He watched Hermione's eyes light up at the sight of his naked chest, and he wanted nothing more than for her to pull her jumper off, but she was in charge today. He hooked his thumbs into his silk pyjama pants and let them slide off of his body.

"Hmm," Hermione mumbled at the sight of his already tented boxers.

Draco watched her hungry face as he pulled those off too, freeing his manhood. Draco pushed his discarded clothing to the side and stood in front of Hermione proudly. They stayed staring at one another for an extended period of time, Draco's body thrumming faster and faster with excitement the longer that he held her heated gaze. Their blue light sparkled brightly around them. Just when Draco was going to make a move on her, Hermione broke the tense silence.

"Sit on the coffee table."

Draco sat down, against his desires to ravish her on the spot.

"Good…" Hermione licked her lips slowly and Draco found that he had to clear his throat in order to speak.

"Are you going to—"

"No talking," she snapped. "I want you to touch yourself," a blush was painting her face, which up to this point was surprisingly blush-free.

Draco was very surprised by her boldness, but he was also incredibly turned on. He willingly gripped his length and began pumping his hand up and down while staring into Hermione's eyes. The sound of their erratic breathing filled the silence of his living room. She would occasionally glance down at his hand moving up and down, but for the most part she held his eye contact. Were Draco more aware of the world around him, he might have noticed that she was gripping his sofa cushions so tightly that her knuckles were a bright white. As it were, his only coherent thought was how hot the situation was and his hand sped up.

"Slower," Hermione ordered huskily.

Draco almost groaned in frustration, but slowed down.

"Slower," she said again, more clearly this time.

Draco did groan in frustration, but his hand slowed even more on his heated flesh. He was going to voice his annoyance when Hermione grabbed the edges of her jumper and pulled it off, inch by inch. She tossed it over her head to land on his pile of clothing. She was not wearing a bra, and Draco's hand sped up of its own accord. Her whole body seemed to be slightly flushed, with, Draco assumed, desire.

"I said, slower, Draco," she said darkly, sitting across from him in just a lacy pair of underwear.

Draco yet again forced himself to slow down. Hermione stood in front of him. "You're torturing me here," Draco said, his voice cracking audibly.

Hermione slapped his cheek. It wasn't entirely a soft slap, there was some sting to it. "Did I say that you could speak?"

She climbed onto the coffee table and stood on her knees behind him, her naked chest pressed to his back. Hermione trailed her tongue along his shoulder and up his neck. She bit him there lightly as Draco continued to stroke himself excruciatingly slowly. He tipped his head backward so that she could reach his neck better. Hermione latched onto it, eliciting a groan from the blond. She reached a hand around to his nipple and tweaked it roughly. "You can speed up now," she whispered into his ear before biting it.

And Draco did, his hand pumping up and down quickly, searching for his release—which after all of her ordering him around wasn't that far away. Draco felt Hermione's little hand moving against his lower back, and he realised suddenly that she was touching herself. Draco groaned. Hermione reached her hand down and cupped his balls, Draco very nearly came. Instead he gruffly muttered, "Granger," and continued to get himself off. Until:

"Stop."

Draco, not believing her, continued because he was so close.

"Stop!" Hermione ordered again. She removed his hand for him.

Draco's heart was racing and he was breathing loudly. "Granger, you're evil."

Her mouth was still playing with his ear. "I want you to bend me over the armrest of your sofa and fuck me," she said darkly.

"Merlin," Draco groaned, forgetting about her teasing ways.

Hermione hopped off the coffee table and stood in front of the armrest of his sofa expectantly. "And take off my knickers first, would you?"

Draco sauntered over to her and ran his hands up the sides of her body. He hooked his thumbs into her panties and tugged them down her body, slowly because that seemed to be what she wanted for the night. Draco stood up and pushed Hermione over the armrest, as she demanded, and positioned himself at her slick entrance. Draco slid into her, one centimetre at a time, until he was, for lack of better terminology, balls deep in her. They both sighed in contentment as the blue light shimmered around them. Draco had trouble telling where she ended and he began, he just felt an overwhelming pleasure sweep over his entire body.

"I want you to fuck me hard, Draco. I want you to grab my hips so hard they bruise, I want you to pull my hair, I want you to play with my clit, I want you to play with my nipples. I want you to come inside of me," Hermione said.

Draco, unsure who this woman was that he was currently thrust inside of, but loving her sudden change in character. Nothing turned him on more than a woman who knew what she wanted.

So he did what she asked; he tangled his hand into her hair while his other one had a bruising grip on her hip and he pounded into her loudly, which had Hermione cursing and groaning noisily. He removed his hand from her hair and pulled her up to him so that he could cup her breast and play with it. Hermione's arms left the sofa and wrapped themselves around Draco's neck. Unlike the rough rhythm of his hips, his fingers gently ghosted over her nipple, circling it and pinching it lightly. His mouth attached to her neck and kissed it wetly. Draco pushed her back to the sofa as suddenly as he had pulled her away and his free hand descended to her clitoris to play with it insistently.

"Draco…" Hermione huffed, he hips moving back against his roughly, "I'm so close…"

"Good," he muttered, rubbing her clit tirelessly and speeding up his thrusts even more. Draco's balls began clenching as Hermione tumbled over the edge, shouting "Draco!" as she did. This of course, sparked Draco's own orgasm and he roughly came inside of her.

The out of body experience that they sometimes shared took over Draco's senses and not only did he feel the waves of Hermione's orgasm coursing through his veins, but he felt…it was almost like butterflies in his stomach and it warmed his body. It was gone a moment later, as their shared feelings only ever seemed to last a few seconds.

Draco stayed within Hermione for a minute or so longer as he shrank and they both calmed down. He pulled out and turned her round so that he could kiss her fiercely.

"That was the hottest thing you have ever done, Granger," he said huskily.

"And I'm only getting started…"

"What would you like me to do now, master?" Draco asked cheekily.

"I wouldn't mind a snack. Chocolate dipped strawberries? I believe we have chocolate and strawberries."

Draco was surprised that she wanted him to make her food, but then again he shouldn't have been; he always made her food. He walked over to his clothes trying to locate his boxers.

"No clothing. Only an apron," Hermione said from where she had sat down on the couch. Her hair was a wild mess, as usual, and several dark hickies littered her neck.

"I knew you were secretly a sex-maniac librarian-type."

"Just for that, no apron. I hope you don't hurt yourself melting the chocolate. Hop to it."

Draco eyed her naked flushed form on his sofa with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was looking forward to the next twenty-three hours…

* * *

The first time that they said 'I love you' was like any other day (it was a Tuesday, light snow fall); Draco and Hermione were fighting over what program to watch on the television. Hermione wanted to see the classic "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer", but Draco, the Scrooge, wanted nothing to do with the heart-warming Christmas tale (what says 'Christmas' more than an outcast flying reindeer with an mystical blinking nose and screeching high-pitched voice finally being accepted by his friends?).

Hermione was having a bad day. She had forgotten an easy step in healing a burn which resulted in her patient needing more potion than should have been necessary if she could just do her job properly. Lynda, one of the part time nurses at the clinic, told her earlier that day that she was pregnant and going on maternity leave, meaning that Hermione needed to find a yearlong replacement for four months from today. She realised, after already sending it in, that her article for the _Prophet_ had an error regarding the date that the first bone mending spell had been made (an amateur mistake), and now Draco was refusing to watch a Christmas Classic!

"You have to watch Rudolph, Draco! It's important Muggle pop culture."

"I hate these old Christmas films."

"You've never even seen one."

"How would you know?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. She stole the remote from Draco's hand and chucked it behind the sofa. "We're watching Rudolph," she said resolutely.

Draco glared down at her, but still allowed her to lean on his shoulder and he still wrapped an arm around her. "You're lucky that I love you," he grumbled. Draco immediately stiffened, not realising the implications of his words.

Hermione's head snapped up to look at him. "You…?"

Draco's heart was suddenly beating very fast and his palms were really sweaty. He gulped. Of course he didn't mean to drop that bomb offhandedly, but that didn't mean that he didn't mean it. In fact, he had been trying to find a time to admit his feelings to her for a few weeks now. "I love you," he said again, this time looking deep into her brown eyes. "For ages now. How could I not? You're amazing."

A tear rolled down Hermione's cheek and she wiped it away roughly.

"Oh Merlin, please don't cry," Draco said sounding very stressed out. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. You don't have to say anything back. I—"

"I love you too, Draco."

Draco stared down at her in disbelief. "Really?"

"Of course I do, you idiot. Why do you think I put up with you?"

"Veela magic?" he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You and I both know that I wouldn't spend time with you if I didn't want to. No matter how strong your magic was, I would do everything in my power to stop it. Veela magic can explain why we're so damn sexually compatible, but it doesn't force me to love you, it just kind of nudges me in that direction. Did you even read the book your mother left?" Hermione scolded him. "I love being around you, because I love you."

Draco kissed her then, sending sparks down both of their bodies.

Of course after their confessions to one another very little of Rudolph was actually seen. Perhaps because they were too distracted by their newly shared loved, more likely due to the fact that Hermione had straddled Draco (blocking his view of the television—not to mention the shimmering blue light that limited their abilities to see the screen) and had her way with him. By the time either of them were paying attention to the poor neglected television set, the news was on.

* * *

_Christmas Day_

Hermione clutched Draco's hand tightly as they stood on her parents' doorstep waiting in the heavy snow. It fell softly all around them, leaving the world in a muffled silence. Hermione watched her breath form in the cold winter air.

"Hermione, love, they're going to love me. Don't worry."

"The man who bullied me for most of my childhood? They were reluctant to even agree to me bringing you round for Christmas lunch."

"But they did agree, so stop worrying." Draco adjusted his hold on the bag filled with her parents' presents. Draco leaned down and pressed a kiss to her rosy cheeks just as the door swung open.

Draco stood straight and pried his hand from Hermione's so that he could shake her mother and father's hands in turn. "Lovely to meet you both," he smiled. Her father was tall and thin with greying hair. Her mother was also tall with deep brown curly hair.

Hermione hugged her parents tightly and dragged Draco into the house. Her home was very quaint. Small, but quaint. Hermione pulled him into the pale yellow kitchen, which smelled delicious, and sat him down on a stool in front of an island counter. Her parents were nowhere in sight.

She eyed the pots bubbling on the stove top. "Dad! I said that we were going to cook for you!" Hermione yelled into the living room.

Paul Granger walked into the room in his wretched Christmas sweater and slacks combination. "Hermione, we love you, but we're not trusting you with Christmas lunch again."

Draco looked at her embarrassed face with a laugh. "Don't tell me that you tried to cook Christmas lunch all alone?"

"It wasn't as bad as he's making you think!"

"The fire department was called!" Paul laughed. "I think you can see why your mother and I wanted to cook."

"I wasn't even going to be the one cooking. Draco was," she pouted.

"You like to cook then?" Paul asked, eyeing Draco up and down in his expensive slacks and dress shirt getup.

"Ask your daughter. She demands that I cook at least one meal for her a day. It's rather tiresome."

"I do not 'demand'—"

"You're right, it is more of a command, either way, it's impossible to say no to," Draco said smiling easily. "How about we help serve, seeing as the food smells just about done."

"Suit yourself," Paul said, walking back the way he came.

"That wasn't so bad," Hermione breathed after he left.

Draco tugged her close to him by her hand. "I told you, by the end of the night they're going to love me. It's all just a matter of the old Malfoy charm."

"The Malfoy charm?" Hermione said with a lifted eyebrow.

"Yes, love, the Malfoy charm. Also known as the reason why you love me, despite my overall wretchedness." He stood and kissed her deeply in the middle of her parents' kitchen.

Little did Draco know that the very two people that he was trying to impress were spying on the two of them from the dark hallway. Paul looked down at his wife.

"They certainly seem to be in love," he whispered as the couple separated and Draco helped Hermione reach the special plates on the top shelf.

"I don't trust that man," Sheila whispered back. "How many nights did we have to comfort Hermione because of the rude things that he said to her?"

"But if she's forgiven him oughtn't we?" Paul asked, his face softening as he watched the couple move around one another in his kitchen.

"We'll see…That depends on what he has to say about my cranberry sauce."

Paul sighed; the cranberry sauce was always less than thrilling—not that he would ever tell his wife that. "Whatever you say, dear."

"At least he has a sense of fashion, unlike that Ronald Weasley, always had his shirt untucked that one," she tsked as she walked into the dining room and began lighting candles.

Paul stood in the doorway for a minute longer and watched Draco reassure Hermione that everything was going to be okay. _Some people do change_.

* * *

_New Year's Eve Day_

Hermione sat across from Blaise and Ginny in a Muggle café near the Ministry of Magic. Draco sat to her right, his hand running up and down her leg slowly and very distractingly. As Hermione watched Blaise kissed Ginny lightly. Blaise was dressed to the nines as usual and Ginny was wearing her _Harpies_ exercise gear and looked rather greasy from training. They couldn't have looked more different. _What a strange couple_. They had just finished eating lunch and Hermione was still confused as to why the couple had invited them out—not that it wasn't nice to spend time with Ginny (Blaise was fun too, but asked too many questions about their sex life for her liking).

"Here's the thing," Blaise started.

"You still owe Blaise a favour," Ginny continued.

"And you never specified the weight of said favour, bad move on your part, mate," Blaise said to Draco.

"Blaise I thought that we agreed that since you only had to keep our secret for a few days…"

"We agreed nothing of the such. Now, what I would like is—"

"Ginny are you seriously going to let Blaise blackmail us?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Just listen to what he—we—want, Hermione," Ginny said fighting a smile.

Then Blaise dropped the bombshell: "We're getting married."

"You're what?" Hermione asked, not believing her ears.

"We're—"

"We heard you the first time. Congratulations," Draco said dryly. "What does that have to do with us?" Draco demanded.

"I want you to be my best man, Dray."

"And I want you to be my maid of honour, Hermione," Ginny said grinning broadly.

"Absolutely not," Draco said rudely at the same time that Hermione said, "Of course!"

"Granger, you don't get it. The favour is that we have to help plan their wedding. You'll have to deal with Molly Weasley. I'll have to deal with Blaise's crazy widow-making mother."

"Watch your mouth!" Blaise objected.

"Plus the two of them yelling at each other over the colour of napkins," Draco continued, ignoring Blaise's indignation.

Hermione's eyes widened, then narrowed at Ginny. "You didn't already tell your mother that she could help plan the wedding, did you?"

"I—well—she's—you'll be fine, Hermione! I'll be with you the whole time."

"That's a lie, Weasley, and you know it," Draco accused.

"Doesn't matter what you think anyway, you two owe me favours and I'm cashing in," Blaise said smugly.

Draco narrowed his eyes at Blaise, but said nothing.

"I can't believe you want me to be your maid of honour, Gin!" Hermione said, suddenly happy. "This is amazing that you two are getting married! Isn't it a bit of a rush though?"

"We have been seeing each other for four months, and the wedding isn't for another year and a half. It's going to be on the summer solstice," Ginny gushed.

"You're not supposed to be happy, Hermione. She's just chained you to her mother for the next year and a half," Draco reminded her.

"Shush Draco, this is amazing news. In all honesty you probably wouldn't even need to bribe me to do the job, but it's too late now because you've already used up your favour!" Blaise harrumphed. "Who have you told so far?" Hermione asked.

"My parents. You two."

"That's it? Oh can I be there when you tell Ron? He's either going to go beet red in happiness or anger. It's really a toss-up." Ginny and Hermione laughed while Draco glared at an easy-going Blaise. "Who proposed? When?" Hermione questioned Ginny.

"I proposed, this morning before I left for the gym," Ginny said flippantly.

"But, for the record, I was going to propose tonight," Blaise cut in. "New Year's Eve is much more romantic than New Year's Eve Morning."

"He's just mad that I beat him to the punch," Ginny winked.

"I'm so happy for you two," Hermione said sincerely. She really thought that Blaise and Ginny had amazing chemistry, she was just afraid that it was going to burn up as time passed. Or maybe she was just projecting her own fears for her and Draco onto Ginny…

"We're telling everyone tonight at the Leaky." Ginny said, standing up. "I've got to head back to practice. We're facing Puddlemere in two weeks and coach is going nutters. See me off, dear?" Ginny asked Blaise.

"Yeah, we'll see you two later to start discussing the wedding," Blaise said, happily wrapping his arms around his fiancée and leaving the shop.

"Well that was unexpected," Hermione said after their departure.

"Tell me about it."

"Back to the hospital, then?"

"Yeah, I've got to go to the lab if you want to join."

Hermione smiled at him. She loved working in the potions lab with him because whenever she needed a break from her work she could stare at his gorgeous face. "I'd love to. I have to edit my column."

As Hermione pretended to write her column she thought about Draco's Veela status. They had not told any of their friends, and allowed Luna's somewhat accurate description of their magic seem like the truth. Hermione was afraid of what might happen if her friends thought that Draco was bewitching her with Veela magic. This, however, was entirely impossible because a Veela could never make his mate do anything that they didn't want through force, magical or otherwise. In fact the more Hermione read about the Veela/mate relationship the more she realised that she and Draco had the best of both worlds; they had amazing sexual chemistry, Draco would never try to hurt her, he was not overbearing because he was hardly a Veela, they could sometimes share feelings or thoughts in high stress situations (but that was very rare, and, because of that, they both still had their privacy), Draco was impressively strong and could thus hold her entire weight as they made love against walls, and they could share magic when one of them was feeling tired. Aside from the blue light, his Veela side didn't affect them much.

Hermione returned her eyes to her parchment and continued to edit her column for the New Year on precautions to take in regards to treating the common cold—the spells that some witches and wizards would try were ridiculous!

As they rang in the New Year Hermione looked around at her group of friends; Ginny and Blaise engaged, Hannah and Theo fused at the lips, Luna and Neville as cute as ever, Harry alive and happy, Ron and Pansy finally exclusive about their relationship (yes Ron had finally gathered all of his Gryffindor courage and asked her to be his girlfriend to which Pansy responded, "Took you long enough"), George with Angelina, Draco with his hand in hers. Who would have thought that she would be ringing in the New Year with such an odd combination of people? Who would have thought that she was looking forward to many more years in Draco's strong and warm arms? (Just so we're clear here, Hermione would not think either of these things a few months ago.)

Late that night, or rather, very early the next day, Hermione lay in Draco's arms tingling warmly from yet another toe-curling, moan-inducing orgasm. Draco was playing with her hair lazily, as he tended to do. She traced his now almost-invisible Dark Mark slowly, which she had taken to doing ever since he said that it was fading more and more because of her. She felt as if her touch made it disappear, which made no sense, but felt right.

"I told you that you would enjoy it when I used your vibrator on you," he smiled.

Hermione blushed lightly, silently agreeing wholeheartedly. "I'm glad that I forgave you, back in September," Hermione said instead of commenting on the fact that he brought her to not one, not two, but four orgasms.

"I'm overjoyed. Otherwise I'd be with some common slag who is far less apt with her mouth than you are."

"I'm being serious."

"I am too. I love you, Hermione, and I thank my lucky stars that you chose me."

"I love you too…There's something about you, Draco Malfoy. It's like we've spent our whole lives dancing around each other. If we had spent less time hating one another, then maybe everything would be different…" Hermione said in a faraway voice.

"We're together now and we have the rest of our lives."

For once when Hermione thought about their future together she was not scared of the prospect of marrying Draco, having children with Draco, living in a blue house by the ocean with Draco, sending their kids off to Hogwarts, being served breakfast in bed, snuggling on cold days, shagging each other senseless, growing old together…

"I like the sound of that," she said softly before pulling him in for a kiss.

* * *

_Three Years and Four Months Ago_

Hermione stood at the door of the HIT lunch room, unsure of where she was going to sit. There were about six small tables, a sink and a fridge. She didn't recognise anyone in the small room except for Draco Malfoy, whom she had absolutely no desire to share a table with. She was still surprised that St. Mungo's had accepted him into their program, he was after all, an ex-Death Eater, but more importantly, a bully. Besides the fact that he was overall a less than decent human being, there was always something about Draco Malfoy. She wasn't sure what it was, but it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and usually ended in them throwing words and curses at one another. She noticed that his hair was styled loosely around his face. It was longer than in school, but just as blonde. Hermione disliked Draco Malfoy immensely, but she secretly worshipped his hair.

Hermione elected to sit at the table next to Malfoy with her back to him so that she wouldn't have to see his pointed vampiric face. She happily ate her lunch in silence, reading a book about common wizarding illnesses. Because she was reading she did not tune into the commotion behind her right away. A few trainees were launching obscenities at Draco Malfoy.

"You Death Eater scum," said one of them (who would later drop out of training due to poor grades). Hermione did not turn around.

"You should have died during the war, you piece of shit," threw another (who would also no longer darken the doorstep of the hospital due to a change in heart regarding her vocation—sewing dresses was so much more rewarding than saving lives!).

Hermione felt oddly attacked, as if she were the one being called mean names. She felt small and alone, but as if she deserved it somehow. She shook herself and slowly turned around to see three healers standing around Draco's small round table. He was resolutely ignoring them and continued to read his own book calmly.

"You think that you're tough shit because you're a fucking Malfoy?" the third one picked up his book and ripped out the pages that he was reading. With his wand, he shred it to pieces.

Hermione watched in horror. Perhaps it was the desecration of knowledge, perhaps it was the fact that she knew how it felt to be bullied, perhaps it was because something deep in her chest told her that she needed to do something, no matter the reason, she stood up and marched the short distance to Malfoy's table. She walked between his would-be attackers and stood firmly.

"I think that you're being out of hand," she said stiffly.

"You're a Muggleborn, Granger," said one of them, "why're you defending this pig?"

"Because right now you're the ones acting like pigs," she said stonily. "And as a Muggleborn, I know how it feels to be harassed for my blood status." A dead silence filled the lunch room. "Why don't you go and eat your lunch?" she suggested and crossed her arms.

Hermione turned around only once the three were sitting at the table furthest away from Malfoy. He was staring up at her looking oddly angry and breathing heavily. Hermione felt a tingle of magic zap down her body at the sight of him. She frowned at her reaction as the hubbub of the room came back to life.

"What was that for?" Malfoy asked quietly.

Hermione repaired his book with a flick of her wand and handed it back to him. "I don't think that people should be treated that way. No matter who they are."

"Even if they're Death Eater scum?"

"Especially if they're Death Eater scum," she confirmed and saw him flinch slightly.

Malfoy glared at her. "I don't need help from you," he spat.

"Really? Because the three people about to hex you to next Tuesday kind of gave me a different impression."

"You think that you're so high and mighty, don't you Granger? Helping poor little Draco Malfoy. Well I don't need your pity. So why don't you just leave me the fuck alone?" he suggested icily. He stood to his feet and stormed out of the room.

Hermione watched him go in shock. Her blood was boiling as she thought about what a git Draco Malfoy was. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end again and her body was humming with magic. She wanted to chase after him and hex him for his ungratefulness. Hermione had to take deep breaths to calm her angry heart.

A few minutes later she found herself complaining about Malfoy's behaviour to none other than Ernie MacMillan, a nice Hufflepuff who worked on Malfoy's floor. The more she spoke about Malfoy the more her blood was boiling again. She again felt the desire to go after him and give him the what-for.

_There's something about Malfoy that gets to me every time. Draco-sodding-Malfoy, _Hermione thought sourly as she continued to eat her lunch. _Here's to hoping I won't be seeing more of him_. Hermione eyed the look of pity on Ernie MacMillan's face as she continued to rant about the bane of her existence and she had the uneasy feeling—which morphed into an almost excited nervousness for some reason—that she would in fact be seeing more of Draco Malfoy, much more than she bargained for (and yes, I do mean his gloriously muscled and blindingly pale naked body).

THE END

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, so I finished it. I ended up not changing anything (besides spelling mistakes). I figured I would never make up my mind because I've had this chapter written for over a week and kept bouncing back and forth. Anyway, this is the result. I hope you like it. And if you didn't, please don't tear my heart out with your harsh words because I am fragile like an air-blown glass flower.

This is my first ever finished story that I've written, let alone posted, so whether or not it lived up to your expectations, _I_ am über proud of myself. That being said, thank you to everyone for your positive reviews, they really made me want to keep editing and re-writing to make sure that you enjoyed it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourited, and/or followed this story. It's just amazing to me that real people are reading it (the internet is a glorious and terrifying place)!

In regards to the sex slave bit (and one of the parts that I considered cutting out, but decided to keep), I have decided that I am going to write a three/four-shot fic that involves their sexcapades over the 24 hours because I really wanted to keep writing it, but I felt it didn't fully fit into this story...so if that's your cup of tea it's probably going to be called "Cashing In", and-spoilers-chapter one will be the first little bit that was written in this chapter.

I've also started another dramione, so that'll be up sometime soon...maybe.

I guess that's all...Thanks again for reading!

- Hufflepuffs Anonymous


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